Tracey and the Chocolate Factory
by Axletia Rosonetis
Summary: Tracey Sketchit is not smarter or stronger than the other children. In fact, he's not a child at all. But when the Golden Tickets come out, Tracey has much of a chance as anybody else. Parody of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Rated T for language.
1. A Golden Ticket Craze

Chapter One : A Golden Ticket Craze

**Disclaimer : **_I don't own Pokemon. Nyah. _

_Hee-hee, I wanted to do a par-o-dy. How come when I searched there was only one chocolate factory-based story in the Pokemon fanfiction ? You guys are evil, ha-ha-ha. _

_^__^ Oh, well. I hope you guys enjoy. _

* * *

Somewhere in a different dimension where time seemed to be slower than the ordinary world, there was an average-sized factory parked somewhere in a random cornfield that went by the name of Rowan. It was one of the largest candy-making factories in the world, yet nobody ever came in or out. Some say that the candy was made by robots. Others claimed that the workers were runaway children who lived solely on Jack Daniels because they were flunkies. Who cared, though ? The candy tasted like best-selling 80's techno music, so there was no reason to question Mr. Rowan's practices, although the ingenious candy-man was shrouded in shadows himself.

But for now, let's avert our gaze towards the beginning of the story. In an abandoned lab near the forests of Pallet Town lived a little boy by the name of Tracey Sketchit. He was not stronger or smarter than the other children. He wasn't even little - just a nineteen-year-old apprentice living with the frail Professor Oak, whom he dubbed as Grampa Sammy. And even though they were so poor that they could only afford mustard for food, they lived as a happy family. Well, as happy as a klutzy old man and an ignored boy with no screen-time _could_ be.

It was a few years before the computer age when five golden tickets were randomly placed into five Rowan chocolate bars. On the first day of the golden ticket craze, Tracey rushed into the tiny room where his elder spent most of his days. " Grampa, " he started, flinging off his snowy sandals and trailing snow onto the floor at the same time, " I'm so glad that you are home ! "

Samuel gave a quizzical glance before smacking Tracey in the head with a rolled-up newspaper. " Yes, I'm home, " he stated testily. He thrusted the newspaper into Tracey's hands. " This newspaper started to make my calluses itch. Then my hands started to hurt. " The man shook his head in disgust. " Why aren't you looking for a Golden Ticket like the rest of the world ? "

Tracey shrugged. " My pencil broke. I've been looking in the streets for another one. "

**_SMACK !_**

" Tracey, that is a _pathetic_ excuse. A pencil won't do you any good, because there are billions of pencils. And I'm not getting younger. My youth is spent. Another year, and I'll be fifty-five. I want to see you with a shimmering ticket made out of golden foil. "

" I'm a sketcher, though ! " Tracey protested. " All I need in life is a pad of paper and a pencil ! "

The professor groaned and buried his head in his hands. " A pencil. All you care about is a pencil. Tracey, my boy, what the hell is _wrong _with you ?! Child, you need to pursue your dreams ! "

" I am, though. "

" No, I don't mean spending hours as an anti-social freak sketching everything that you see while living in a cave ! " the Professor snapped, smacking Tracey again. " You have as much of a chance of winning a Golden Ticket as the rest of the world does, Tracey. Imagine meeting Mr. Rowan himself ! "

Tracey blanched as he thought of a creepy-looking man with a sock puppet. He shook his head, mortifed. " No ! I don't want to have any more encounters with puppets and button eyes ! It's too much, Grampa ! "

" What ? "

_**" NO MORE SOCK PUPPETS, DADDY ! NOOOO ! "**_

Samuel slapped a hand to his forehead. He slowly staggered out of bed and shoved the bawling sketcher into the doorway. " All wander and no work makes a very dull boy. Now, sandal-wearing or not, you go into the snow and make your dreams appear ! "

" B-Bu-But- "

" Nooo, my good boy, go and be important for once dagnabit ! "

" No, Gramp- "

-shove!-

Tracey fell facefirst into a giant pile of recently fallen snow. He attempted to run back inside, but fell back into the snow, as the door was locked. Grampa Sammy hadn't been so enthusiastic about anything in a long time, but Tracey was doubtful about Rowan and his contest. There were only five Golden Tickets in the world, and he was out in the snow, barefooted. How would he get through all of this commotion ?

Better yet, how would he survive without a pencil ?

* * *

On the second day of the Golden Ticket craze, Tracey was outside shoveling snow that landed the previous night. His feet were freezing, and the lint between his toes started to freeze solid, making it very uncomfortable to walk. His hands were also starting to itch from the chill. It was probably the coldest January that he had witnessed - five below zero, Fahrenheit.

Around lunchtime Tracey went inside to avoid hypothermia. Grampa Sammy was nestled up in a pile of blankets while watching the small television that they owned. When he saw Tracey venture in, the Professor beckoned the boy to come forth. " Tracey, my boy, drop the shovel and look at the screen. The first Golden Ticket has been found ! "

It was true. In a small house about five minutes away from Tracey's humble abode, Ash Ketchum was being interviewed with his divorced parents. Tracey knew Ash from traveling with him. A nice guy, although dense, but he knew better than to mix Ash with food. Everyone else, however, was unfortunate and didn't know this....

* * *

-*scene change ; Ketchum residence*-

" Hehe, well for the past couple of days, I've been on a chocolate binge. Normally, I wouldn't eat too much chocolate because it makes me constipated, but when I heard of this - " He held up the Golden Ticket within sticky fingers. " - I decided to go for the all-you-can-eat diet, y'know ? Last night, Pikachu and me were searching for nickels on the streets of Viridian, and- "

" You were_ what_ ?! " Delia interrupted, furrowing her eyebrows.

Ash sweatdropped, but made no response to his mother's outburst. " And I found enough money, and the next thing you know, I found a Golden Ticket, " he finished lamely.

A lot of the newscasters clapped their hands in awe. One of them placed a bony hand on Ash's shoulder and grinned, showing a snaggletooth and smeared lipstick. " Oh, you must be _so _proud of your boy's accomplishment, Mr. and Mrs. Ketchum ! " she said gaily while practically crushing Ash's shoulder with her grip.

" _Ms. _Ketchum, " Delia responded stiffly.

" Eh, he should be out following my footsteps instead of going after chocolate, " Giovanni murmured, " or at least searching for a girlfriend like most normal boys his age do. "

Ash's sweatdrop grew slightly larger. He chuckled nervously as Pikachu whimpered under his breath. " Okay, could we move on with the questions, please ? "

The newscaster nodded, reestablishing her monstrous grip. " Of course, Alfy. "

" Uh, my name's Ash, ma- "

" What did you say about my son ?! "

Silence. Delia slowly turned to her ex-husband with slitted eyes. " Are you implying that Ash isn't a normal boy ? " she inquired in a deadly undertone.

Prolonged silence. Giovanni cleared his throat several times before speaking. " Well, look at him ! " he retorted, sweatdropping. " All he does at home when he's not training is eat and act like a dumb-ass ! You can't possibly explain his simple-mindedness, Delia ! "

Pause. Giovanni was harshly thrown into a wall. He stumbled into the kitchen before falling over himself and swirlies replaced his eyes. Everyone else except for Delia sweatdropped. The newspaper tugged on her bun of hair. " Well, ladies and gentlemen....Ash Ketchum, everybody ! "

Delia placed on her motherly smile and giggled softly. " Yay ! "

Ash suddenly didn't look as enthusiastic as he did earlier. " Yeah....yay. "

* * *

Later that day, Tracey was fiddling with an old-fashioned PDA while Grampa Sammy was flicking through the TV channels when there was a knock on the door. He opened the door to reveal his friend and grandson of the Professor, Gary, along with Gary's girlfriend with the skimpy skirts, Dawn. " Hello, Gary and Dawn ! " he greeted, opening the door more.

" Hello, Tracey, you mangy son of a Buizel, " Gary greeted back, stepping inside of the lab.

Dawn stepped forward, also, giving Tracey a friendly hug. " Look at you, Tracey ! Why are you barefooted in the middle of January, you poor thing ! "

Tracey sighed, holding back the comment that he could see the edges of flowery underwear and instead gesturing for his guests to sit on the small couch. As they did, Grampa Sammy stumbled to where the children were seated and smiled before he tripped over a floor rug. " Hello, children, " he said rather shakily as he recovered from the fall.

" Hey, Gramps, " Gary replied.

" Hello, Professor ! " Dawn chimed in.

" Hello, children, " the Professor repeated, taking a seat next to Tracey. " Did you hear the latest news about the Golden Tickets ? "

No response. Tracey glanced warily at his elder. " What's the news, Grampa Sammy ? "

Samuel grinned. " The second Golden Ticket has been found ! "

* * *

(Viridian City.....)

" Well, you know, I don't have the time to eat a lot because I work a lot. I'm a gum-chewer, and I've been the Kantonian junior champion gum-chewer for the past couple of years, but when I heard of the Golden Ticket thing, I was like, ' Hey, if I nabbed a Golden Ticket, I could promote the glory of Team Rocket ', ya know ? Chocolate's gross, though, so when I found my prize, I gave the candy bar to those buffoons with the obsessive thoughts of Pikachu. Besides, it's bad for my _amazing _figure, and- "

" Doms, would you quit yappin' ? The TV folk are starting to sweat. "

Domino turned to Vicious. She glared at him and punched him in the arm. " Sashie,_ you're_ the one who's been in jail, and _I'm_ the adorable girl with the blonde curls that's going to meet Mr. Rowan ! " she screeched. " The least you could do is stop acting like a frickin' ass in front of worldwide television ! "

Vicious grimaced. " I don't give a damn ! " he snapped back, kicking a cameraman to his knees. " I'll kill every friggin' cameraman to prove my point ! "

" You can't do that, you son of a bitch ! Giovanni placed you on probation ! "

Suddenly, the scene turned melodramatic, and Vicious was kneeling on the concrete next to the fallen cameraman. He sniffled. " I hate everyone. "

Several newscasters sweatdropped, including the woman who interviewed Ash earlier. Domino kicked Vicious in the back. " Get up, you sad sack of crap ! " she hissed. " We have to prepare for meeting with Mr. Rowan ! "

_**" NO ! "**_

" D- Don't tell _me _'no' ! I'll fucking send you right back to the penthouse, bub ! "

_" NOOO ! "_ Vicious repeated, quickly running towards the other side of the street.

_**" DAMN YOU, SASHIE ! "**_

* * *

While there were technical difficulties in Viridian City, Tracey sat alone near the fire. He wearily looked at the blazing elders. With two Golden Tickets already unleashed, how would he all of all people find one of the shimmering pieces of golden foil ?

And would he ever find another pencil suited to his needs ?

End

* * *

Cast o' Characters :

Tracey Sketchit - Charlie Bucket

Professor Oak - Grampa Joe

Ash Ketchum - Augustus Gloop

Delia Ketchum - Augustus's mother (...)

Giovanni - Augustus's dad _(I don't think he was actually in the book, though. I _know _he wasn't in either movie. Meh.)_

Gary Oak - ....Not in actual story

Dawn - ....Not in actual story

Domino - Violet Beaureguarde

Vicious - Violet's....caretaker(?)


	2. Depression to the World

Chapter 2 : Depression to the World

_^^ I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed the first chapter. Maybe it's not as good as the last chapter, but I still had a pleasurable time writing it. Of course, next chapter contains fluff-....oops....did I say fluff ? (Fwahahaha....)_

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Chapter Three is currently in the writing process. :3_

* * *

It was the third day of the Golden Ticket craze. People all over the world were scurrying about, desperately searching for one of the three Golden Tickets that remained. It seemed like the world was one giant madhouse, and with each passing hour without a discovered ticket, people grew more chaotic and primitive.

Tracey, however, seemed unaffected by everything that surrounded him. On the third day, the temperature was above zero, and the fallen snow from the past two days stood limply on the ground. Tracey, still barefooted, and Gary were shoveling snow while Dawn and Grampa Sammy were making mustard soup. It was a tedious job, and there was no pay, but it had to be done for the sake of a proper path to and from the lab.

Gary scooped up a giant clump of snow with the shovel and threw it into the road. Dropping the shovel for a brief second, he sighed and rubbed his gloved hands together before he resumed his share of the task. Still, while he was shoveling, he couldn't help but glance at Tracey, who was as pale as a ghost. " Tracey, buddy, maybe you should go looking for a job, " he said, stating the obvious. " A _real_ job. You shouldn't have to live on mustard, dude. It's not healthy. "

" Can't. "

The spiky-haired boy squinted his eyes. " Why not ? "

" They won't let little boys work in the fields, " Tracey replied dryly.

" Um....you're nineteen...."

" Well, child labor laws can be a pain in the heinie. "

Gary rolled his eyes. He knew that Tracey was lying to avoid further questioning. Grampa Sammy may have been able to take care of himself on a certain degree, but he still needed to be watched over and have assistance on hand with him. After all, he was an old man of fifty-four, and was very clumsy against nature in general. And Tracey was too attached to the old man to hire somebody to take care of the home. They had previously discussed about the subject before, but no ends were drawn.

" Tracey ! Gary ! Lunch is ready ! " Dawn called out from the front door, waving her hands. " Come take a break and have some mustard soup ! "

" Yes, Dawn, " Tracey answered.

" We'll be right in, dearest ! " Gary added, regaining his composure.

Dawn nodded, closing the door half-way. Tracey gently dropped his shovel and grinned at Gary. " Well, we heard the lady. We've done a lot of work today. Now let's get something rumbling into our tummies ! "

"....You really _are_ a weirdo, " Gary mumbled, dropping his own shovel and heading for the door.

Tracey chuckled under his breath. " I know. "

The two boys sauntered slowly towards the lab which made both of them have that sickening cozy feeling, no matter how smothering it could get within a world of chocolate-buying craziness.

* * *

Grampa Sammy flahsed a smile as he scooped up a small quantity of watered-down soup with a ladle and poured it into Dawn's chipped bowl. " Dawn, sweetie, you need the nourishment, " he croaked, taking a stealthy glance at her skirt and beyond. " My grandson can knock you up, and you would die from starvation or childbirth pains or spontaneous combustion, just because you refused to eat. "

Dawn chuckled nervously, oblivious to the old man's peeking. " Oh, you don't have to dote on me, Professor. Just last week, I was talking to my mom, and she told me as long as I strive to be healthy, I'll be fine. " She took a couple of sips from her bowl and smiled. " She also said that I'll fill out nicely once I hit my climax of puberty ! "

Gary, who was sitting on the couch with Tracey, started to snicker. The Professor shot an annoyed look at him. " Gary, my boy, you shouldn't snicker over such wonderful things ! Puberty is a magical wonderful thing ! " he stated, wagging the ladle at him. " Puberty is the passage that you must go through in order to be an adult. You're fourteen ; you should know that. "

" I thought it was a bar mitzvah that made you an adult. "

" No, Gary, that's only for Jewish people like us, and I mean to be an adult _physically_, " Samuel explained, sighing softly. " When you go through puberty, you are eligible to make babies, and- "

He abruptly stopped his speech and threw the ladle at Tracey's head. " Tracey, dagnabit, why aren't you looking for a Golden Ticket like the rest of the world ?! " he snapped, completely forgetting the conversation he had just started. " I thought I told you to pursue your dreams ! "

Tracey gazed down at the floor dejectedly. " Well, Grampa, I still haven't found a pencil, and that's been on my conscience more than the ticket...thing. "

" _Traceyyyy....."_

" What ? I haven't been able to sketch in three days. I'm about to go off my wazoo, Grampa Sammy. "

Samuel sluggishly stood up from his chair and took out a chocolate bar from the deep pockets of his labcoat. He walked over to Tracey and smacked the boy with its rectangular goodness. " Here. It was your birthday last week, my boy, and I never gave you anything, " the man said, handing Tracey the bar.

" Um, to be honest, I'd rather have a pencil...."

".....Take. The. Candy. "

Tracey sighed. " Okay. "

Everyone seemed to move in closer and held their breaths as Tracey slowly opened the wrapper that the chocolate was covered in and cozy. He undid one end, then the other end, and finally flicked the wrapper off altogether, with no Golden Ticket in sight. The boy smiled in defeat. " Well, now the question is how to split this into five-sies. "

Dawn furrowed her eyebrows worriedly. " Tracey, no. Gary, tell him not to do it. It's his only birthday present. "

Gary shrugged. " It's _his_ candy bar, so he can do anything he wants with it. Besides, it's free chocolate. "

" _Gary_ ! "

Tracey tapped Dawn on the shoulder. " There's no need to worry, Dawn. It's all right, really, " he assured, handing everyone a small and equal-sized piece of chocolate. " Seeing everyone have a tasty treat will make it sweeter. "

Suddenly, the television cut off the program that was currently airing and replaced it with the snaggletoothed lady standing inside of a mansion. " We just have reports that the third Golden Ticket has been found in Vermilion City ! "

-*scene change ; Vermilion City*-

" Well, I'm so fortunate to find a Golden Ticket. I've just been_ so_ longing to go out and be a trainer, but Daddy won't let me. "

Giselle turned to Lt. Surge and pouted. The man scratched the back of his head nervously. " Well, honey, I've been a bit busy....."

" You weren't busy when you flirted with Nurse Joy ! " Giselle retorted in a feigned, agonizing tone. " And you weren't busy when you chased Joe off of our property with a sledgehammer ! You almost broke his leg, but you never paid any attention to me ! "

About a dozen newscasters' eyes bulged out of their eye sockets slightly. The snaggletoothed reporter grinned as she playfully smacked Lt. Surge in one of his meaty arms. " Oh, how precious ! " she cooed. " A father and a daughter, graced by the Golden Ticket's presence. It must be hard taking care of a teenager and running a gym at the same time ! "

" One-night stand, baby ! " Lt. Surge boomed, grinning widely. " I come back here to live permanently, and the next thing you know, a basket comes crashing through my window with Zelly and a Post-It note. "

_" DADDY ! "_

Lt. Surge sweatdropped. " ...Anyway, I work in my gym a lot, and when I heard that Zelly wanted a Golden Ticket, I threw off my belt buckle and started to get Rowan bars by the bulldozer. I said to all of my pokemon, ' Buds, my little girl wants a ticket, so start eating chocolate until you find something shiny ! ' So, we started eating chocolate by the pound. Zelly was upset when I didn't have any success on the first two days. Then, today I found one, and found that I gained ten pounds in two days ! Oh, we may have to go to the hospital later, 'cause this one Magnemite is upchucking in the washing machine....he whimped out....."

There was scattered applause throughout the room. Miss Snaggletooth's smile grew wider. " Bravo ! Any final requests ? "

Giselle's eyes turned into slits. " Yeah. Drop dead. "

* * *

" What an arrogant, little girl, " Grampa Sammy commented.

Gary snorted. " Arrogant's an understatement. "

" More like 'corrupted', " Dawn added.

Tracey shook his head. " I don't think it's fair. She didn't find it herself. It's like one of those movies where the wealthy get everything. "

The bluenette crossed her arms. " Tracey, I think you're thinking of Richie Rich, and that particular type of person is lonely and evil. They're your next robbers, murderers, and plastic surgeon-practicing hockey players. "

Grampa Sammy nodded. " So, in a way, the poor have it all. "

" Nuh-uh. They have a better variety of condiments, " Tracey retorted.

_**" BUT WAIT ~ THERE'S MORE ! "**_ the television exclaimed. " We have just received reports that the fourth Golden Ticket has been found in Veilstone City in Sinnoh ! "

-*scene change ; Veilstone City*-

In a medium-sized house with a flowery porch and a lawn filled with garden gnomes, one little boy was violently wiggling a joystick around while several newscasters and cameramen surrounded him.

_" DIE, DIE, DIE ! "_ the boy screeched in a cold, angry tone, killing zombies on the television screen with the joystick.

A few of the cameramen sweatdropped. The lady newscaster shone one of her phony smiles, smeared lipstick still on her face. " Mr. Paul, may I ask how you obtained your ticket ? "

Paul shot a chilling glance towards the newscaster for a brief second before directing his attention back to the television. " I tracked down the postmarking date, then I checked the particular barcode that would contain a Golden Ticket. It's so easy a dumb-ass could do it. In the end, I only needed to buy one Rowan bar. "

Behind him, Reggie flashed a nervous smile. " I honestly don't know what he's talking about most of the time. Kids grow up so fast nowadays. "

Miss Snaggletooth pursed her lips. " Um, aren't you a little young to be a legal guardian ? "

Suddenly, the television was abruptly turned off and ignored. Paul turned himself around, anger decorating his face. " I don't even _like_ candy, " he stated angrily, trying to control his fury. " I just did it because my brother goaded me into doing it for twenty dollars. "

The woman's smile drooped slightly. She silently reached for her bun. " Well, I was just asking because according to these files, your brother is seventeen...."

_**" SHUDDUP, SNAGGLETOOTH ! "**_ Paul roared, throwing a cameraman into the ceiling fan. _**" MY DAD'S OUT TRYING TO RECREATE THE UNIVERSE, ALL RIGHT ?!! "**_

Reggie sweatdropped. " Um, Paul ?...."

"..."

" Paul ? "

_**" GO AWAY ! "**_

_**"...I'LL FORCE YOU TO GO TO YOUR ROOM ! "**_ Reggie snapped, eyebrows suddenly furrowing.

_**" AND I'LL FORCE MY FOOT TO SHOVE IT UP YOUR A-"**_

* * *

Samuel turned off the television and winced. " I don't know how four tickets could be found by such depressing children. Well, 'cept for Ash. He's just dense. "

Dawn furrowed her eyebrows. " That Paul. He ought to be chained to a wall for the rest of his life, right, Gary ? "

Gary shrugged. " Eh, you know him, not me. "

" S'pose so. What do _you_ say, Tracey ? "

" Nothing, " Tracey mumbled. " I'm going back to shoveling snow. "

The boy walked out of the lab and went back to face the harsh elements of winter. Grampa Sammy took a sip of water from his mug, spilling most of the liquid onto his lap. " A pencil, " he murmured. " His self-esteem is really pitiful, you two. The poor boy is always working just to keep a roof over our heads. I just wish for him to be happy. "

" Even if he smells like macaroni and cheese all the time, Gramps ? "

" Yes, Gary. "

* * *

Later that evening the final ticket was found by a Russian boy. Everyone was disappointed, but held their sadness back. Grampa Sammy even grabbed his accordion from the closet and played a few songs. Gary and Dawn left just after they heard the news, leaving Tracey by himself, Grampa Sammy sleeping in his room, and neat, shoveled snow.

Once again Tracey sat by the fire in a daze. It seemed like he failed everyone these days. No job, no money, mustard. Maybe things would be better without a Golden Ticket. Maybe things would go back to normal.

And maybe Tracey would finally find a pencil.

End

* * *

Cast o' Characters :

Tracey Sketchit - Charlie Bucket

Professor Oak - Grampa Joe

Gary Oak - Not in actual story

Dawn - Not in actual story

Giselle - Veruca Salt

Lt. Surge - Veruca's father

Paul - Mike Teevee

Reggie - ....Mike's brother ; not in actual story


	3. Shimmering Piece of Foil

Chapter 3 : Shimmering Piece of Foil

_Yay ! Surprises and slight fluff ! I'm happy. ^_^ _

* * *

" I'll see you later, Grampa Sammy. "

Those were the words that Tracey had mumbled under his breath an hour ago as he walked out of his home for a walk. He left a note on the refrigerator before slipping on his sturdy sandles and idly slipping away into a larger world. It was an average, cold, January day, but the weather seemed like one giant bite of frost to Tracey's heart. This was the fourth day of the Golden Ticket craze, or _would've_ been the fourth day, had there been one or two tickets still flying about in a securely wrapped Rowan chocolate bar with that underlying best-selling 80's techno music taste. He felt a wounding stab at his heart, not for him, but for Grampa Sammy. The Professor was so determined to have a ticket in Tracey's grasp. Now how would he ever make his elder happy ?

By now he took his first footsteps into Viridian City. Despite it being morning, the city already seemed to be wide-awake and bustling. Tracey managed to keep himself from being run over by vehicles and pedestrians as he quietly went inside a desolate candy shop that had been practically abandoned from overuse. He ambled up to the counter and placed a quarter on its surface. " One Fudgerific Scrumpdiddily Rowan Chocolate Bar, please, " he stated politely, scraping the floor with his sandals.

The employee nodded, making the exchange between money and candy. Tracey's fingers ran through the rectangular bar, palms sweating slightly for no apparent reason. He opened up the piece of candy....

...And a Golden Ticket fluttered out from the opening onto the floor.

Everyone's jaw dropped to the floor, including Tracey's. His eyes started to blink rapidly. " Oh, my God, " he mumbled incoherently. " What the hell ? There were only five Golden Tickets. It can't be real. I-I must be dreaming. "

_" DUDE ! YOU GOT A GOLDEN TICKET ! "_

Tracey turned around to see the employee grinning at him. He shook his head. " But the fifth Golden Ticket was already found ! "

" Duuude, didn't you hear ? It was a forgery ! That Russian had some mad skills, man, but it didn't fly with the rest of the world ! " the employee explained. " Man, luck bit joo heinie, man. I suggest that joo run along before someone tries to kill joo for it, man. "

" Um...could I trade this for a pencil ? "

_" GO, MAN ! "_

Tracey was pushed out of the stoor, still grasping the Golden Ticket. He started to run as fast as he could in the freezing temperatures. The boy ran through concrete, dirt, and miscellaneous pebbles. He ran, and ran, exhausting his stringbean body. Just as he was about to stop, though, he collided face-to-face with the front door, swirlies replacing his eyes. " Ohhh....I should stop running and trying to open doors at the same time...uhhhh...."

His hand clumsily reached for the doorknob, and turning it, he gently pushed the door open. A woman with soft blonde hair and sparkling blue-green eyes clicked her tongue as she helped Tracey to his feet. She wrapped her arms around his limp shoulders in an awkward embrace. " Hi, Tracey, " she greeted, pulling him further into the lab where Grampa Sammy was grinning like a lunatic. The woman pulled the sides of his shorts and clicked her tongue again. " You're still as stiff as a cardboard box, I see, and, like, as cold as a steamy iceberg just waiting to melt. Why haven't you called me or come over ? Are you afraid Misty's going to try to bite you and force an itch under your pants ? We both know that she's harmless, that little stick of a girl. "

The boy merely lowered his head to avoid anyone seeing him blush a rosy pink. " Hello, Daisy, " he mumbled meekly.

Daisy Waterflower, eldest sister to Tracey's good friend, Misty, and the woman that he had silently dubbed as a goddess from the first time he met her. Although there was a seven year age difference between the two, the friendship was close and borderline fluffy. A few, very close encounters had almost let them into a locked bedroom, but Tracey always pushed away, uncertain if he was ready to give in to his manly desires - a perky nurse and a doctor wearing nothing but a stethoscope and a pair of shorts with alpaca designs on them. Just the thought gave him tingles.

She tugged on his arm, pulling him closer to her. " Oh, my God, you're as fluffy as the bear on the laundry softener boxes ! " she cooed.

Pink spread to his entire face. Suddenly, the concept of possessing a Golden Ticket wasn't such a bad idea. He took out the ticket and feigned a joyous smile. " Well, Daisy, you and Grampa Sammy will be the first to hear the terrific news ! "

" Terrific news ? " Daisy repeated. " What could it be, Tracey ? "

Tracey held out the Golden Ticket for everyone to see. " Ta-da ! "

Daisy gasped under her breath, cheeks paling slightly. Grampa Sammy shakily stood up from the couch, tripping over the floor lamp's cord as he walked up to Tracey and clutched him by the shoulders. Tears started to well up in the man's eyes. " Tracey, is it really true, my boy ? "

" Yeah. I tried to trade it in for a pencil, but nobody would go for the offer. "

Grampa Sammy chuckled under his breath. " Good Giratina. Well, what does it say ? "

" Congratulations in finding this ticket, " Tracey began. " I shake you warmly by the hand and cordially invite you to my factory for a day on February 1st. Each one of the lucky contestants shall receive a complimentary prize, but one of the contestants shall also receive a special prize, said person decided by myself. Once again, congratulations, and I will see you on the first of February at ten a.m. "

" February 1st ? But that's tomorrow, " Daisy stated. " Tracey, honey, will you be able to get ready in time ? "

" Nuh-uh, I still have a lot of ti- ...oh. Holy crap, that _is_ tomorrow. " Tracey sweatdropped for a few seconds before nodding. " Sure I could. It also says that I can bring someone along. So, since he's been so good to me, I want Grampa Sammy to go. It's been a while since either one of us has gone on vacation. "

Samuel grinned. " Wow. Guess I should get ready and prepared, then. We have less than twenty-four hours before we go meet Mr. Rowan. "

He let go of Tracey's shoulders and tripped over himself within ten steps. Daisy helped him to his feet and to the couch. The man sighed in relief. " Thank you, Daisy. I hope I'm not that clumsy when I go. I don't want to shame Mr. Rowan. "

Daisy shook her head. " You won't shame him, Professor, " she said gently. " If you fall, Tracey will catch you. Both of you will be fine. " She glanced down at the floor, blue-green eyes tainted with worry. " There _is_ something that is, like, bugging me, though. Do you think those newscasters will try to interview you ? They seem like a cloud of dandruff out to get anybody whom they find worthy of destruction. "

All of a sudden, the tension skyrocketed into the air, and things became quiet. Tracey gulped, suddenly welcoming Daisy's touch. He attempted to smile, but failed miserably. " It'll be okay, Daisy. In fact, I bet they won't find out. "

-*two hours later*-

Sixteen news vans were parked alongside the sidewalk. Any hopes of having peace and quiet the day before the trip to the factory vanished into another dimension. Noobish newscasters were crowded around the front door, praying that they could get a meager snapshot of the stick man ragamuffin.

Inside the lab there was no escape. Tracey stood in the middle of the room wearing his usual taste of apparel, dismayed. Grampa Sammy stood next to the quivering boy, grinning from ear to ear, seemingly oblivious to all of the commotion. Daisy, who was standing on the other side of Tracey, patted him on the back. " Tracey, these people aren't here to eat you, " she said, wrapping her arm around his back for assurance. " I know. I've been through a camera ordeal before. It's, like, scary, but you won't die. Just smile and look at the camera. "

" Uh-huh...."

The snaggletoothed woman finally made her appearance in Tracey's home, visibly disgusted. She stomped around the perimeter in her heels, pursing her lips in annoyance. " Nobody told me that we were going to interview a caveman, " she murmured angrily, " and why does this place reek of mustard ?! Good Giratina, it's called an air freshener ! My suit stains are cleaner than this dump ! "

She grunted, crossing her arms with microphone in hand. " All right, where the hell is that stupid brat ? "

Tracey meekly raised his hand. The woman reached for her bun. " You look like a hobo ! " she screeched in horror. " My reputation's going to go down the tube. I always knew children would be the source of my demise ! "

Daisy took a step forward and casted a glare upon the newscaster. " Snaggs, I'm going to set it straight for ya, " she said, unusual malice in her voice. " You either interview my friend, or you'll be stuffed in my sister's Candyland box, with a bald spot here and there, a couple of bruises, and a giant gap where your Prada bag used to be. Does that sparkle with you, hon ? "

" Crystal. "

Miss Snaggletooth rolled her eyes. " *So* glad I'm not a blonde, " she muttered under her breath. She cued the cameraman and faked a smile. " Good morning. I'm here in Pallet Town with Mr. Golden Ticket # 5. Apparently, even poor men have miracles. I'm with Mr. Stacey Sketchit and his guardian, Samuel Oak. Stacey, how did you achieve your ticket ? Fraud ? Bribery ? Tried to smoke it and it tasted bad ? "

Cat-like green eyes mercilessly gazed at the boy as if he was a small fish. Tracey sweatdropped. " My name's Tracey...."

" Interesting. Do you have tendencies to touch yourself while making breakfast ? "

Silence. Daisy's face turned murderous. The newscaster smirked to herself, dropping her grip on the bun. " Well, let's change the subject. Any lovers ? "

"....That's a personal question, ma'am. "

" Of course it is, sweetie. " Miss Snaggletooth cackled, turning to Grampa Sammy. " Mr. Oak, you must be so proud of this child. Now, has he always been a barefooted shlomo, or did he join the circus as a little boy and come back recently, deranged ? "

Pause. Grampa Sammy gave a blank stare for a few seconds before shaking his head. " Tracey, my boy, if you really wanted to dress in drag, at least wear a lipstick that's less chintzy. It's smeared, too. "

" Like a quarterback's ten-cent Chapstick, " Daisy added dryly. " How dismal for someone who has the same lame fashion sense as my sister. Misty may wear suspenders of all things, but at least she doesn't show a snaggletooth and premature crow's feet ! "

_**SMACK !**_

_**" THAT'S IT ! I'M OUTTA HERE ! "**_ the newscaster roared, stomping a heel. " I hope you die and fall into a ditch, you stupid, sons of bi- "

" Um, we're still rolling, " a cameraman interrupted.

" Oh. Oops....."

Daisy rubbed her cheek, feigning a surprised look. " Snaggs, how could you ? I thought you said you were the voice of little children. You're not being very nice. " The girl twirled a lock of hair around her finger. " Tsk. What a shame. "

" I'll be the voice of Kira if you don't fuck off ! " Miss Snaggletooth snapped.

" Okay. Well, why don't you show yourself to the door, and we can wrap things up, hmm ? I'm sure you wanna find something less chintzy. "

" Yeah. I'm outta this dump. "

* * *

-*the next day*-

" I wish you well on your visit. Both of you. And if Ash doesn't explode from all of the chocolate, tell him that Misty wants her Game Boy back, like, ASAP. "

Daisy wiped Tracey's face with a damp tissue. The boy blushed within him. " Thank you, Daisy. "

He turned to Grampa Sammy. " Are you ready, Grampa ? "

" Ready as a pot of freshly-made mustard soup. "

Tracey grabbed Grampa Sammy's hand, and together the two men walked towards their destination. What would they come across ? Would it be good, or bad ?

And would Tracey ever be able to find a pencil ?

End

* * *

Cast o' Characters :

Tracey Sketchit - Charlie Bucket

Professor Oak - Grampa Joe

Daisy - _Not in actual story. Charlie's.....'friend'. _


	4. It's A ChocoParadise

Chapter 4 : It's A Choco-Paradise

_I'm glad that I have Professor Rowan as Mr. Candyman. I felt that Willy Wonka is a good, strong-hearted character, and I felt that neither movie seemed to perfect his likeness. Gene Wilder was the guy that you felt was....not your buddy. He seemed sarcastic and ill-tempered, and he got all p.o.'d just because of some extra cleaning that he had to do. And Johnny Depp....he seems to have some real emotional problems in the movie. We all know he's a nut. Sooo....Rowan can be the good Wonka, I dunno. And who says that Mr. Candyman has to be middle-aged ? He can be an old guy with senior citizen benefits if he wants. Especially if he's an old guy with senior citizen benefits _and _fluffy white hair ? Ha-ha._

_^^ All right, enough of my ranting. Enjoy. :3_

_Btw, Brock's song has been created by Axletia Rosonetis (and the flying part of the song was inspired by that one episode of South Park). You really can't set this tune to anything. Just think heavy metal. XD_

* * *

Five minutes before the designated time, the contestants and their guardians stood outside the gates of the factory. It was colder than the average temperature, yet Tracey was still barefooted despite the mushy snow. Ash nudged him in the shoulder, smiling happily. " Isn't this awesome, Tracey ? We're going inside a chocolate factory ! " he exclaimed, clapping his gloved hands together. " It's one of my dreams come true ! I'm so psyched. It's too bad Pikachu couldn't come. He told me that nothing good comes out of eating so much chocolate, but I think he was jealous. There's an odd sensation in my bowels, though, and it's not the good kind. Dunno why. "

" Maybe you ate some bad chocolate ? " Tracey suggested.

Ash shrugged. " Well, I _did_ eat some chocolate from the garbage. It tasted funny, and not the 'ha-ha, I peed my pants' funny. Now that I think about it, Pikachu's warned me about eating from the garbage, too. Sometimes I wonder if that mouse has been sneaking out of my room late at night and pumping his brain up with smart chemicals. "

Tracey sweatdropped slightly. " Smart chemicals ? "

" Mm-hm. Team Rocket gave me this catalogue a few months back. There were all kinds of unusual name. Plutonium, uranium, mercury, titanium....sounds like the kind of thing you'd give to a robot. "

" I don't think you're supposed to eat those kinds of things, Ash. I'm pretty sure they're hazardous to a person's health. Imagine what the effects could be if _Pikachu_ swallowed one of those chemicals. "

" I would guess that they would give you superpowers. That's what happened with some of the best hero prodigies. "

Giovanni stood silent, ignoring everything surrounding him. Grampa Sammy was humming the theme song from some old, wild west TV show. Domino smirked at Vicious and Lt. Surge, who were chattering about some war. She tugged on her 'guardian's' sleeve. " Sashie, are you talking about the girls that you picked up overseas ? " she asked while chewing a stick of gum, though the sticky piece of sugar did not affect her speech.

Vicious glowered at the blonde, eyes focusing on her jawbone. Lt. Surge cackled. " Yes ! I must've nailed about fifteen ladies in the war, an' Sashie here claims he did twenty in a row ! A real war hero, I must say. He's fulfilled his patriotic duty, and then some. An' let me tell ya, little Curlsies, that some can get him bailed outta jail if ever he's jailed for some political keg partying, hehehe. "

Domino beamed. " Oh, well, you don't have to worry about that. He's already been the- "

" Yeah, well, that was when I had a whole set of hair, " Vicious replied as he clamped a hand over his so-called 'child's' mouth. " Damn premature baldness. Doms, you tell _Mr. Ketchum_ that he shouldn't snicker at my bulky helmet behind my back during meetings. It's better than a gun aimed at his eyes. "

_SMACK !_

" Yeah, but his snickering his ten times better than _you getting fired because you put your hand over my mouth !_ "

Meanwhile, Giselle was eyeing Paul and Reggie with a peaked interest. Paul merely gave his standard glare and emo stance. " It's rude to stare, " he said coldly. " You should at least _try _to be considerate of others. What if someone was dying on a bridge, and you just _stared _at him ? You're _pathetic._ You're probably more pathetic than my brother, and he's King Loser. "

" Now, Paul, don't be so cheeky, " Reggie scolded. " We're in a public place. "

" Whatever. I don't care. "

" All righty, then. "

Paul crossed his arms, closing his eyes in annoyance. " This is a waste of time. I should've used this ticket for a bonfire. "

Giselle kept staring at the two boys despite the rejection, trying to penetrate Paul's cold demeanor. Reggie lowered his head in a mixture of emotions. The clock finally chimed ten, signaling the metallic gates to open and for the ticketholders and their guests to step forward into a place that seemed to disassociate itself from the rest of the world. The group of ten ran towards the factory, anticipation fueling their energy, gaining the experience that couldn't be showed or understood by anyone else.

* * *

It was dark, and nothing could be seen except the silhouette of a man with a tall hat and a slender cane. Everyone gasped in astonishment as the light flickered on and the man showed himself. Purple was the dominate color, cloaking the man with its vibrant beauty. A tall, purple hat with a silken sash of a deeper shade nested on his head. The shirt, jacket, tie, pants, socks, and even shoes were also of the same color. He was an older man, with a rather shaggy hairstyle and mustache, both white as a ghost, and a pair of serious blue eyes with the glint of a businessman's in them.

A smile tugged at the corners of his pale, pink lips, but he grimaced in spite of the attempts. " Welcome to my factory, " he said in a gruff voice. " My name is Rudolph Rowan, and I am delighted in having you hear. I shake you warmly by the hand. "

He extended his hand out to be wiggled. Nobody accepted the offer. The man merely shrugged, tapping his cane on the tiled floor. " I'm a man of sixty-four, and no one wants to shake my hand ? Hn. I guess elders aren't being treated like they used to. I- "

" Damn straight ! " Grampa Sammy interrupted. " Ol' Rudy knows what he's talking about ! "

" Shut up, old man ! " Giselle hissed. " You probably live in a cereal box or somewhere else repulsive ! "

Suddenly, Samuel's eyes turned to swirlies as a blush crept up to his cheeks. " Well, _hello_, Mrs. Robinson. Jesus loves you more than you would know...."

" Ew ! You smell like mustard and old person ! "

" Tsk. At least I don't wear such a short skirt. You're lucky you're wearing pantyhose. "

" Well, at least _I _don't live in a cereal bo- "

" _ENOUGH_ ! " Rowan roared, silencing the bickering. He tilted his hat forward and pointed to a hallway. " I have no time for nonsense. We have only a day, and there's so much to do. There's only forward from here on out. Does anyone want to go back while they still have the chance ? "

Silence. Rowan's smile finally took over his face, which seemed crooked and misplaced under the mustache. " Very well. Let's go inward, then. Beyond this hallway will be the greatest experience that you will encounter. "

He started to walk towards the door that was at the end of the hallway. The group attempted to follow him, but soon found that the hallway was growing smaller in size. A tiny door was at the hallway's end as promised, so small that even a mouse could barely pass through the door. Everyone started to push each other, trying to get through. The old man merely chuckled. " Looks like we have to go the other way. How inconvenient. "

" There _is_ no other way, you old bat ! " Domino snapped, clutching her beret. " The other way is to go back ! "

" Blondie's right, " Paul mumbled angrily. " Your senses are illogical. "

" Your_ face _is illogical, Paul ! "

_**" SHUDDUP, KETCHUM ! "**_

Ash snickered under his breath, which prompted Giselle to smack him in the back of the head. Tracey eyed the opposite door. " Mr. Rowan, I do believe they're right. We'd have to go back. "

" But I told you, there _is_ no other way back. "

Rowan walked over to the other end of the hallway and gently pushed on the door which they had come in from, revealing a completely different scenery. All of the teenagers gasped in awe at what their eyes saw. There were giant trees with lollipops dangling from the leaves and branches. Mountains of fudge towered proudly over a fluffy river of chocolate. A waterfall of sprinkles stood opposite of the mountain, and a pond of caramel reflected the bright, colorful lights. All across the room there were hints of chocolate, and even the grass felt like squishy marshmallow. Nothing could be deemed unrelated to the nine-letter word. It was a choco-paradise.

Mr. Candyman chuckled again, extending a hand out to the haven. " Go and explore, " he said, his mustache seemingly smirking. " Enjoy my dream for a bit. We're quite ahead of schedule, and it would be dismal if I couldn't share some of my beloved chocolate to my young ticketholders and their guardians. "

The group immediately scattered to different areas. Paul, Reggie, Giovanni, and Ash seemed to disappear out of sight. Vicious and Lt. Surge started to kick the trees to see who was more athletic/had more brawn. Domino and Giselle were snickering at their guardians and making fun of them, and Grampa Sammy had taken about seventeen steps towards the marshmallowy grass before crashing into the two young girls.

Tracey, however, just stood near the entrance, silently watching his elderly companion. He was thinking about many different things, most of them being pencil-related. Rowan stood next to the boy, hands (and cane) behind his back. Neither man said anything for a few minutes before Rowan grunted. " Lovely day, isn't it ? "

It took a few seconds for Tracey to realize that the candyman was talking to him. He quickly bobbed his head in reply, causing the older man to grunt again. " The perfect temperature to harvest chocolate, too. I'm glad someone agrees with me. It proves that I'm not such an old bat after all. "

" Well, it's cold outside, " Tracey mumbled.

" Why, yes, it is. You look as white as my mustache, boy. It _must _be quite cold out there for you to have such a ghastly shade of skin. "

The boy nodded again, and Rowan softly pushed him forward, following behind closely. Near one of the trees, Giselle pointed at the mountain. " How odd. There are little men on the fudgy mountain ! "

" Little men ? Da fudger ? " Lt. Surge repeated.

Sure enough, there were little men standing between three and six feet, though there was only _one_ six-footer, and _many_ three-footer. Though somewhat varied in size, all of the little men held in common two things besides a pair of overalls : squinty eyes that seemed to stay in place and not blink at all, and tan skin that made it hard to tell what race they were. Domino gasped, bewildered. " Who _are_ those squinty, little men ? " she asked.

Vicious cackled. " They look absurd. "

" They look intriguing, " Grampa Sammy commented.

" Why, they're Oompa Loompas, " Rowan informed. " The tall one is Brock. He enforces the productivity rate. "

Lt. Surge rolled his eyes. " There's no such thing. Who the hell heard of an Oompa Loompa ? Probably some mutant offspring. "

Tracey squinted his eyes. " They look mischievous. "

" Sure do. " Rowan nodded, tapping his cane on the ground again. " Yep. It's best to leave them alone. " He examined the group, who gathered into one clump again. " I see that most of you are here, but where are the two boys with peculiar haircuts and the guy with a square-shaped head and broad shoulders ? "

Reggie sweatdropped. " Paul dragged Ash somewhere, and Mr. Ketchum followed after them. I think they were playing Uncle, Mr. Rowan, Sir, as far as I could see. "

Suddenly, everyone heard a loud, muffled scream behind them. Paul had Ash in a binding chokehold while plunging his head in the chocolate river. Somehow, Ash enjoyed his head being dunked, as his mouth was attempting to suck up all of the liquidy chocolate that came in contact with his face. Giovanni's eyes were slitted. " I'm pretty sure this isn't safe ! " he yelled at the two boys, shaking a fist. " All of that chocolate's going to give him a giant sugaar rush, and _I'll_ have to face his mother with a babbling idiot ! "

" He's _been_ a babbling idiot ! " Paul yelled back. " I'm just doing him a favor ! "

_**" CHOCOLAAAAATE ! "**_

Ash slipped out of Paul's tight grip and dove into the river, drenching himself in goopy, brown stuff. He proceeded to swim against the raging current, which was pushing him backward in a ferocious frenzy. A hand fluttered in the air as the boy was being swept away into a whirlpool, said whirlpool connecting to a slender pipe.

Rowan's left eye twitched in fury. " My chocolate must be untouched by the hands of a glutton ! How does a little boy that scrawny manage to fall in the river ?! "

" He didn't _fall _in. He _threw_ himself in, " Paul corrected, smirking. " You should get your eyes checked, old man. "

_**" FUCKING HILLBILLY ! "**_

He broke off a branch from one of the trees and maniacally ran towards the edge where land and liquid met before flinging the branch at Ash's head. Ash easily dodged the attack with bulging eyes and slithered up a pipe like an Ekans. The pipe could only hold so much, though, and about halfway through the tube, he was stuck in the pipe. Giovanni's jaw dropped slightly. " Ash ! If you don't breathe, you'll die quicker ! Just slip into a coma and we can have you six feet under in four to six business weeks ! "

" I'll make it two to four weeks if I can smash his legs in with a crowbar and burn his stupid hat ! " Vicious offered.

" We've already been through this, Vicious. The answer is _NO_ ! "

" C'mon ! I'll even make it an accident ! "

Domino tapped her chin. " Hmm. I'd go for the offer, Sir. "

"....._No_. "

" Nobody's using a crowbar on anything ! " Rowan snapped, smacking the backs of Giovanni's head and Vicious's helmet. " The answer to everything is tofu ! "

Tracey blinked. " Tofu ? "

" Yes. I've learned from experience that tofu counterbalances the compounds that chocolate is made of. We'll place some tofu at the entrance of the pipe, and the chemical reaction will blow up the sumnabitch to the other side of the pipe ! "

" That doesn't make much sense ! " Giselle exclaimed.

" It makes _perfect _sense ! " Grampa Sammy retorted.

" It makes no sense at all ! " Rowan cackled. " It's pointless ! "

They all watched Ash squirming in the pipe. The lead Oompa Loompa, Brock, swam through the goopy river with ease while holding the handle of a bucket in between his teeth that was filled with tofu. Several smaller Oompa Loompas, all with squinty eyes, also swam through the river with buckets of tofu. Each Oompa Loompa dumped their cubes of tofu in the water. The pipe sucked up every cube, causing it to make a sickly, slurping noise. Rowan reached for a pair of goggles from the folds of his pants pocket and placed it on his face. " This can get ugly. I once witnessed one of these reactions at the region fair of '66. It took almost the entire National Guard to help clean up Saffron. I almost lost my left leg, and yet....I was _intrigued._ "

He motioned to Brock, who set the tofu cubes on fire with a lit candle. The cubes, now drenched in chocolate, snapped , crackled, and popped, pardon me for the lame attempt for laughter, into the pipe, making contact with the soles of Ash's feet. There was silence, and then Brock cleared his throat in song-form.

_" Listen to my word, guys and gals,  
To a tale of a boy and his gluttony pal_

_ Hair of a mop's, the one whom we hold so dear _

_His story is common, but one we all fear._ **HAHAHAHAHAHA !** _"_

The other Oompa Loompas started to dance to an ominous tune. Brock's dorky attire was replaced with a long, black cloak and cape.

_" You've yet to see our true intentions _

_Heed me, need me, pay close attention_

_ Gone is the pleasure, and gone is the pain _

_Rotting, weeping, his mind has been slain _

_Rational thoughts have been brutally struck_

_ And when the time comes, we don't give a flying f- "_

Everyone gasped as Brock grinned devillishly.

_" _Flock_ to him, little kiddles, preach to the phones_

_ For the sinner is named Ash, and he must atone_

_ Atone for his manners, atone for his stomach_

_ Little things, big things, the child knows no limit_

_ Forever and ever shall this boy plead_

_ For his flaw to be taken away, said flaw being greed "_

The sound of an explosion could be heard, and Ash shot up the pipe like a speeding bullet. Brock started to laugh maniacally.

"_ A tisket, a tasket _

_We all fall through the basket _

_Gone is his pride, and gone is the blame_

_ The worst is yet to come_

_ So who is next to be shamed ?_ **A-HAHAHAHA !** "

All of the Oompa Loompas disappeared into the water without a trace, except for Brock, who led Giovanni out of the room. Rowan smiled to himself. " Well, we should move forward now. We mustn't dawdle. "

Paul raised his hand. " Am I in trouble ? "

" Nope. "

" Kick-ass. "

Rowan nodded. " Onward. "

The group followed the man to an unknown destination. Tracey quietly winced to himself. It was barely an hour, and already someone was injured, if you could call being shot in the buttocks with twelve pounds of tofu an injury. At least Grampa Sammy wasn't hurt, though. This would be more of a difficult visit than he thought. How could the boy succeed in not failing miserably ? How could he keep Grampa Sammy in a happy daze ?

And how will Tracey ever get his hands on a pencil ?

End

* * *

Cast o' Characters :

Tracey Sketchit - Charlie Bucket  
Professor Oak - Grampa Joe

Ash Ketchum - Augustus Gloop

Giovanni - Augustus's dad

Domino - Violet Beauregarde

Vicious - Violet's...._guardian_

Giselle - Veruca Salt

Lt. Surge - Veruca's father

Paul - Mike Teevee

Reggie - Mike's....brother

Professor Rowan - Willy Wonka

Brock & his siblings - the Oompa Loompas


	5. Onward

Chapter 5 : Onward

_Meep. _

_Resident Evil originated in '96, so for all good causes, they have Resident Evil at the time in the pokemon world. Nyah. ;P_

* * *

Time had passed since the incident with Ash occured. Despite being an elderly man with senior citizen benefits, Rowan's health was seemingly unmarked with disease and dementia. Step by step, room by room, the old man led his group of contestants through various places, covering a lot of territory in the process. There was a room of chocolate-based Silly Putty, and a cell of butterscotch. Feet passed over a bridge of licorice, and toes daintily squished long pieces of pink taffy beneath them. Exhaustion was a word that many thought in their heads, though, and it seemed that time had suddenly froze on purpose, just to stretch the dread of sore feet and pained movement. It felt like the old geezer would never relent. Maybe he was actually Death in disguise, waiting for weariness to overcome and have the corpse tremble at its meaty hands as it took them by the scruff of the neck to the land of the promised....or Hell. Whichever the corpse deserved.

Finally the group stopped abruptly in front of a boat that looked like a giant swan who was plagued with pink lace and red hearts of decoration. Ten Oompa Loompas were seated in front of the boat while holding large oars. Rowan gestured to the boat with an undefined smile. " If everyone would be so kind to please step into the boat, " he stated, tilting his hat. " I've always had a fondness for boats. Such elegance and ignorance is sorrowfully neglected and abandoned to the trades of smuggling and wreckless homicidal activities. "

" Then why don't you get a yacht ?! " Giselle demanded. " Why use something so goofy-looking ?! "

Paul scowled. " Because they're economically useless, that's why. Get a life. "

Giselle furrowed her eyebrows slightly and stomped off into the boat. Everyone else reluctantly followed suit, Tracey and Grampa Sammy taking two of the furthest seats from the entrance last. Rowan took his seat next to Tracey and motioned the Oompa Loompas to paddle. A mix of emotions surged and bubbled in Tracey, mostly nauseating. The boat jerked and rocked as it cradled its passengers. No one could tell if the swan-shaped vehicle was going quickly or slowly. Flashes of various colors sparkled around them.

The nauseating feeling flared inside of everyone's body by now. Rowan smiled to himself and turned to Tracey and Grampa Sammy. " Exciting ride, isn't it ? "

Tracey stood silent. Grampa Sammy nodded. " Yessir, Mr. Rowan. Tracey and I fished on a boat in a river. It was nothing as nice as this boat, though. I can see why you wanted a swan. It glides so smoothly in the water. "

" I've made sure that it certainly does so, " Rowan agreed. He glanced back in the direction where they spent time in earlier. " I am the only candy producer that mixes my chocolate by waterfall. The churning motion makes it light and frothy. Reminds a person of a root beer float. Same texture, same concept, different reasons it was made. "

" Bravo. Why don't you get a room with the float ? " Domino mumbled under her breath as she rolled her eyes.

" I would, but all of the rooms were completely booked. Sorry for the inconvenience, little girl. "

Grampa Sammy smiled one of his wise smiles. " Interesting ! I once mixed root beet with vanilla ice cream by wooden barrel ! "

Rowan turned back to his elderly friend. " Hn. How'd it taste ? "

" Horrible, but it had a powerful aftertaste. "

" Did you try nutmeg ? "

" No, I didn't. Thanks for the tip, Rudy. "

" Ah, it's not a tip, but a cherished tool. "

The Oompa Loompas continued to paddle the boat, still making that nauseating motion among the passengers. Slowly the swan-shaped boat passed different rooms before it finally halted near the edge of a raised platform made of concrete. Rowan stood up from his seat and stretched his arms. " Ah, what a relaxing ride. Time to move on, I suppose. "

Domino crossed her arms. " You call being almost driven to the point of upchucking 'relaxing', old man ? "

" Yes. "

He stepped out of the boat, the rest of the group soon following suit. With a swift motion of the wrist, the boat started to move forward again, and it was gone before an eye's blink could be made. Rowan briskly led the group to a steel door and reached for the handle. " This is one of my most important rooms, " the man stated. " Here we come up with unique ideas to promote business. Possibilities are theoretically endless. Just like how A and B can equal C, _this_ is the definition of chocolate perfection. Ever hear of the Pythagorean Theorem, kiddies ? "

Silence. Rowan shook his head in disappointment. " How sad. What are the schools teaching these days ? I remember when I was a child, most schools loved a dose of corporal punishment. If a child wasn't prepared with his homework, the teacher would give him ten lashes to the behind with a thick, wooden ruler. Sometimes we came home with twenty splinters. Mother used to take them out with a can opener. " He sighed. " I miss those days. Oh, how time can fly so fast and- "

" Dude, would you just open the door ? " Vicious interrupted. " You've been holding that handle forever with your sweaty, wrinkled palms. "

" Very well. "

Gently pulling the handle, the candyman opened the door, grinning beneath his mustache. " Behold, the Inventing Room ! "

A thin sheet of steam greeted everyone's eyes as the stepped inside of the room. Rowan walked ahead of them, keeping his position in the front as conductor. He pointed his cane at various things : a rotating lollipop clock with hands made out of black licorice, a giant Leonardo da Vinci sculpture built from vanilla icing, a bunch of beakers filled with miscellaneous ooze, labeled, " Miscellaneous Ooze ".

Lt. Surge grabbed the beaker and wiggled it up and down slowly, making the contents of the beaker to gurgle rather demonically. Paul snatched an identical beaker with the same, miscellaneous ooze in it. He smirked at the container. " It seemed that Mr. Candyman is trying to make an army of demon spawn. I wonder what kind he's trying to make. Maybe a zombie based off of Resident Evil ? "

" Nuh-uh. It's more like that other zombie game. "

Paul snorted. " Lieutenant, there _is _no other zombie game that is comparable to Resident Evil. Your thinking process is dysfunctional. "

" And your _brain_ is dysfunctional. Resident Evil _sucks_. "

Miscellaneous Ooze was thrown into the lieutenant's face, causing him to stumble backwards and drop his beaker. He fell on his back, clutching his face in panicked agony. Reggie turned to Paul and placed his hands on his brother's shoulder. " Paul, you apologize to Mr. Surge ! " he ordered, swatting the other beaker to the floor. " You know you're not supposed to act like that in public ! "

_" You know you're not supposed to act like that in public ! "_ Paul mocked.

" Stop it. "

_" Stop it ! "_

Tracey sweatdropped. " Maybe you should listen to your brother. "

" Shut it, Mustard Lover ! "

Rowan cleared his throat. " I do believe with have an example of why we shouldn't touch other people's stuff without their permission. Now, if someone would please help the flailing man with the meaty arms, we can move on and not use our grubby hands to touch whatever we please. I guess it'll be me. We needn't have any more preventable accidents. "

The candyman helped Lt. Surge to his feet and walked over to a different table. He grabbed a small, colorful ball from its surface and felt it among his fingers. " This is an Everlasting Gobstopper, kiddies. Made for children with a poor, financial situation, you can suck on this all day, and it won't get any smaller. " He chuckled to himself before giving a sudden glare to Paul. " And _yes_, it's a child-friendly piece of candy, but _no one_ places their hands on this invention, or I'll use some corporal punishment of my own. "

" You shouldn't challenge growing teenagers, " Paul mused. " Sometimes those kinds of statements make us feel insecure. "

Giselle giggled. " He makes a point. "

Paul smugly smirked. " Yes. Yes, I do. "

Domino, ignoring all of the annoyance that swelled in the air, picked up a paper-thin, rectangular strip from the table and peered at it closely. She undid the wrapper and waved it in front of the table. " Is this gum ? "

Everyone turned around to pay attention to the blonde-haired girl. Rowan slowly nodded. " Yes. That's the Three-Courser. This has been invented for the weary homemakers. Have to slave over a hot stove morning, noon, and night in order to make a meal for your family ? Well, with Rowan's Three-Courser, that's no longer necessary. Just one strip to chew, and you shall get your daily nourishment ! " He cleared his throat nervously. " Unfortunately, we've had some problems with this particular invention. It has to go through further testing before I could release it to the general public. "

" Well, I think I can handle it, " Domino sneered, taking the piece of gum that she was currently chewing out of her mouth and sticking it behind her ear. She placed the Three-Courser in her mouth and resumed chewing. " I'm not the Kantonian junior champion for nothing. I can handle a defective piece of gum. "

" No, you don't understand ! "

" Wow, six different brands of cold cereal ! I can taste the cornflakes and milk on my tongue ! "

Vicious grinned. " Yeah, that's my superior officer ! You keep chewing like the crazed Miltank you are ! Moooooo. "

_" SHUDDUP, SASHIE ! "_

_" Moooooooo. "_

_**" SHUT UP ! "**_

" Hehehehe....."

Domino glowered at her helmet-wearing companion, but continued chewing. " Oh, wow ! Grilled cheese sandwich ! Dang, it's been a long time since I've had one of those. It's crunchy and dairy-bonafide at the same time ! "

Rowan took a step forward, pointing to Domino with his cane. " Little girl, I strongly suggest that you spit out that piece of gu- "

" Tomato soup, baked potato, and blueberry pie ! Yum ! "

" Crap-ola. "

Blue-violet splotches started to appear on the blonde-haired girl's face, and she slowly started to expand in all areas of the body. Vicious rubbed the top of his helmet. " Doms, you're turning into a giant blueberry ! " he exclaimed. " You can get me put in jail again ! "

_" NOT BEFORE _I _GET YOU IN YOUR SLEEP ! I WILL EXPLODE ON YOU ! "_

Silence. Vicious turned to Rowan with bulging eyes. " Rudy, you gotta help her out somehow ! If she explodes on me, there's going to be an army of Officer Jennys knocking on my door when I get home ! I'll knock you out into a different state of mind if you don't want to be conscious, but just make sure that she doesn't explode all over the place ! "

_**SMACK !**_

_" NO ONE'S EXPLODING ! "_ Rowan snapped. " It's not a big deal. I've tested the Three-Courser on about twenty Oompa Loompas, and I swear that every single one of them turned into a giant blueberry. She's going to need to be juiced. "

" Juiced ? " Vicious repeated.

" Yes. Some say that it sounds painful, but it's really a simple process. A feeding tube will be stuck to the side of her stomach, and the process will work just like the tube, except it'll suck _out_ the goops instead of sucking _in _the goop. "

" Huh. Intriguing. "

By now Domino was blue and almost as tall as the ceiling. Unable to speak, she angrily flailed her tiny arms back and forth. As everyone watched her pathetically squirm in fury, Brock and several other Oompa Loompas rushed into the room wearing blue wigs and holding hockey sticks in their hands. Each Oompa Loompa placed their stick under Domino, and together they balanced the angry blueberry among their sticks before humming very softly. Just like the last time, Brock started to sing in a serious tone.

_" She needs an operation _

_And have an examination _

_On why chewing gum all day long_

_Is sick and gross and very wrong_

_We've grown so fond of this little girl _

_With the retro beret and the bouncy, blonde curls _

_She's been too busy, and won't repent _

_To tell the truth, she's been arrogant. _

_(A-da-la-la, a-da-la-la.) "_

The other Oompa Loompas started to toss Domino up in the air with their hockey sticks. Brock waved his own stick like a baton.

_" I've seen this type of gal before _

_Gum-chewer dancing on the tiled floor _

_Stomach being pumped, a face of violet-blue _

_Jaws chomping down, but her face is stuck like glue_

_Never again shall she feel pride_

_As this gum-chewer has been condemned to hide !** FWAHAHAHA ! "**_

Domino was rolled out of the room, Vicious closely following her with a hand to his helmet. Paul smirked. " She looks like a balloon. Can we poke her with a needle when this is over ? "

_" NO ! "_

" Oh, Mr. Candyman, how could you hurt my feelings ? "

" Very easily, it seems, " Rowan replied testily, grabbing his cane from the floor. " It can't be helped, though. We must go forward, but I think you could get souveniers somewhere along the way. Let's go. "

Rowan stomped out of the room. Everyone else followed afterward, with Tracey shuffling out last. He had kept quiet for most of the hour, thinking about several things at once. Doubts were starting to scatter around inside his mind. The group was down to seven : two elders, himself, an Army man, an Army man's daughter, and two brotherly siblings who were _nothing _alike. For once, he had a slim chance of actually winning the special prize.

Still, things would be a lot better with a pencil.

End

* * *

Cast o' Characters :

Tracey Sketchit - Charlie Bucket

Professor Oak - Grampa Joe

Professor Rowan - Willy Wonka

Domino - Violet Beauregarde

Vicious - Violet's father

Giselle - Veruca Salt

Lt. Surge - Veruca's father

Paul - Mike Teevee

Reggie - Paul's brother

Brock & siblings - Oompa Loompas


	6. Bliss Down the Garbage Chute

Chapter 6 : Bliss Down the Garbage Chute

_The following chapter makes references to :_

_South Park : (the Obama joke XD), __Sailor Moon, and __Artemis Fowl ^.^_

_Yesh, finally finished this chapter ! I'm so happy ! *does the victory pose* I've just been lazy this summer, so my apologies for being a bit slow. I'm just a bit bummed over this chapter because this is the last episode with Lt. Surge and Paul acting like they're rivals. (Although....that would be a good fanfic topic. Lt. Surge vs. Paul. Who would win this epic-crippling fight ? (Who cares ? ^.~)_

* * *

It was now a group of seven venturing throughout the factory, and the whole situation seemed to fall headfirst through the roof as stomachs growled and hunger rumbled in the atmosphere. Lunchtime hours had reached the climax of eating lunch, but no one had eaten anything since breakfast. The candy-based theme wasn't making the situation any more tolerable, either. Tempers were starting to run high in the already-tense group, and what was the only thing that would calm down these tempers ? Food, of course. Pure, authenticated food and not from a cafeteria.

After a few stops to five different (and extremely dull) rooms, Paul took out a bag of walnuts from his side pocket. He grabbed a handful of nuts and popped them into his mouth. A smug smirk appeared on his face as he chewed and swallowed them. " My, these walnuts really do taste good in the pit of my stomach. Too bad none of you are cool enough to share with. " The boy quickly glanced at Giselle, who was crossing her arms. " Well, except for the chick. Her lipstick tastes edible. "

Giselle snatched the bag of walnuts from Paul and smiled. " I'm glad you like my type of lipstick. If we end the tour early, maybe we can continue where we left off. Who knows ? Maybe I'll let you wear some of my lipstick for the rest of the day. "

Lt. Surge glared at Paul. " Little boy, what the hell did you do to my daughter ? "

" Nothin' yet, Lieutenant. "

_**" IF YOU TOUCH MY DAUGHTER, I WILL KILL YOU ! "**_

" Let's see you try. "

The lieutenant kicked a nearby door in frustration. Paul continued to smirk as he wrapped an arm around Giselle's waist, which only furthered the testosterone levels in the lieutenant's brain. He released his foot contact from the wall and lunged at Paul with fists in the air. The boy stepped out of the enraged man's path, causing Lt. Surge to stumble over himself and fall to the floor.

Tracey helped the fallen man to his feet, whose eyes had turned to swirlies from exhaustion. Giselle started to laugh in her snobbish, airy way. She smacked Tracey's hand from the lieutenant's shoulder and stuck out her tongue teasingly. " Daddy, you shouldn't be jealous of Paul. He's just a boy that's on the same tour as us. No more harmful than the mustard-smelling boy, or the skirt chaser, or _Reggie._ " Tracey, Grampa Sammy, and Reggie shared an insulted look with one another. Paul cackled under his breath, pleased that he was in the temporary limelight. Lt. Surge's eyes continued to swirl as Giselle laughed again. " There's no worries, though. Paul won't bite. "

Silence. For a few seconds, the only things that could be heard were the light fixtures. Then, Lt. Surge crashed headfirst into the wall and fainted, and Rowan cleared his throat to break the silence. " Eh, I do believe we should stop for a break and eat something before we move on, " he announced, quickly glancing at the lieutenant.

Paul grabbed ahold of Giselle's waist and pulled her closer to him, smirking in the process. The girl giggled in his arms, enjoying all of the sudden attention that was doused on her and Paul. Grampa Sammy laughed in a menacing way, prompting the rest of the group to sweatdrop slightly. " Yes, we need food for the kiddies, " he replied, eyes gleaming mischievously. " We don't need them to get the willies if they get too excited. Hehehe......"

No one dared to respond, not even Tracey.

* * *

Everyone in the group except for Grampa Sammy blanched at the sight of what was supposedly their lunch. Seven plates covered with squishy, dirt-brown globs were spread across the surface of a table which had seemingly popped out of nowhere. Brock and two other Oompa Loompas stood at the front of the table with joyous smiles. The head Oompa Loompa extended a hand in greeting. " Ah, Mr. Rowan, lunch has been served, " he declared, bowing to his superior. " We have made enough so that you and your guests may enjoy seconds if you desire. "

_**" WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP ?! "**_ Rowan roared furiously. " Brock, I know you've made fancy dishes in your spare time, so what's the deal with the slop-from-a-can ?! "

Brock started to have sweat beads running down his face. He bowed again to Rowan, smile quickly disappearing altogether. " My apologies, Sir. I did not know that your guests did not like the slop-from-a-can. Would you prefer some mush-on-a-plate ? "

" ....No, thank you. "

" I am deeply sorry, Sir. It will not happen again. "

Rowan sighed as he patted his employee on the head. " I know it won't, Brock, but that's not the point. We're all very famished, and I'm afraid we may have to skip lunch. Slop-from-a-can will just not do. "

Lt. Surge, who had finally regained consciousness, pointed to Paul. " Make him share his walnuts ! He's not being very helpful to society ! "

" Neither have you, Lieutenant, " Paul retorted stiffly. " That mesh shirt looks horrible on your six-pack of abs and body fat. Try saying no to the candy bar for once. It may let you lose a couple hundred of pounds. What's your shirt size, an ultra-large or a lardo-large ? "

".....You two-timing thug-a-lug. "

Meanwhile, Tracey silently stood next to Grampa Sammy. The older man shook his head disapprovingly at the bickering between Lt. Surge and Paul and turned to Tracey. " Look at that little boy, " he muttered. " Something's wrong with his brain. There are those ailments that can cause a man to be absolutely mad, Tracey. We used to lock up these kinds of people in padded cells with straitjackets, but we've learned that these people have conditions. If you take enough medication now, your condition won't get a padded cell and free tapioca. " He stared blankly at Tracey for a minute. " Has Mr. Paul taken his medication today ? "

The bickering grew worse as Paul insulted the lieutenant's grandmother. Retaliating to the insult, Lt. Surge started to scream and shout about how Reggie was a stick figure and Reggie was an _ugly_ stick figure. Of course, that wasn't really a good insult, since Paul hated his brother with a motivated passion. That just made Reggie feel like a giant pile of dirt and wryly answer Grampa Sammy's question.

" Three times, extra strength. Hasn't worked. "

* * *

Without lunch and without proper nourishment, Tracey felt _great._ Delirium had finally caught up to the boy after two years of eating almost nothing but mustard. Sure, feeling like you're on top of the world may have been a mere side effect from the hunger pains. Still, it was better than crashing headfirst into something wooden.

His mood seemed to affect no one. In fact, temporary insanity seemed to set the stage for the current situation. Lt. Surge and Paul were both silent after the festival of insults. Most of the insults were related to Reggie until the lieutenant bragged about how he owned an entire ranch of Chimchar. It was a lie, but Paul didn't know that. Stabbed by the ridiculous lie, Paul's cheeks turned a light shade of purple before he tackled Lt. Surge to the ground. A fight had ensued, and now boy and man were glaring daggers at each other.

Rowan attempted to lighten up the mood. He tried to move his mustache involuntarily, but failed miserably. A six-foot man skipping along the floor tiles wasn't the answer, either, but it did manage to make Tracey start laughing hysterically. The delirium seemed to grow worse. Gibberish started to come out of his throat. " Obama ! Obama ! Obama ! "

Paul broke his silence, sweatdropping. " Do we really want to know ? "

_**" THAT'S MY HORSE ! "**_

A chair was smacked into Tracey's head by a dancing, Scandinavian immigrant with messy blue hair and a 1950's accent. Paul shook his head in disgust. " Well, Mustard Boy's gone off his wazoo. I guess it's time to ransack this place for a vending machine. I'll request the fire extinguisher. "

Grampa Sammy started to crack up next to Tracey. He gently tugged on his shirt collar. " He has an amazing sense of humor, " the Professor said as he patted Tracey's back. The boy responded by running into the nearest wall. Somehow, Samuel thought that the reaction was hilarious. " You see ? He's your next stand-up comedian ! Soon he'll be making three figures a year ! "

Giselle snorted. " I don't know how a Golden Ticked could have picked unemployment. The general population likes to stay away from bums. "

" I am _not _a bum ! " Samuel defended. " I am a pokemon researcher ! I am the one who discovered that there may have been more than 150 pokemon ! "

_**CRASH !**_

Tracey placed a hand on the wall as he tried to regain his balance and sanity. After upchucking something dark yellow and goopy, he turned to Grampa Sammy and shook his head. " Grampa, you didn't discover that. That was Professor Westwood in 1937. "

" I thought he invented the Pokedex. "

" No, that was you. "

" Ohhhh. " Everyone sweatdropped at the astonished interjection. Grampa Sammy smiled at his rediscovered discovery. " I'm glad I was reminded of that. Now, I can improve on its design. Of course, it's been ten years. I may not be ready. The _world_ may not be ready. "

Silence. Rowan shifted his gaze from the group to a sign which read, " Berry Room ". He tipped his hat slightly forward and went towards the room. " Let's go, " he said briskly, slowing down just enough for the rest of the group to keep up with him. " We have more to do than to just dawdle. "

A few minutes later, they were all safe and secure in the Berry Room. Rowan flashed a smile at the spacious room. " This is where we get all of the precious berries to make candies other than chocolate, " he explained. " I have specially trained workers to separate the good berries from the bad ones. "

He pointed to a group of gophers, who squeaked in greeting. " See ? They're excellently trained, and very loyal. No other animal or pokemon could beat the loyalty of the gopher, not even a Poochyena. "

Paul rolled his eyes. " Whoever heard of a gopher sorting berries ? Your methods are highly illogical. I doubt those gophers are even real. I bet they're all mechanic. "

About five gophers suddenly leapt from their posts onto Paul's head, pushing the boy onto the floor. He growled as he yanked a couple of the furry critters off of his long, emo hair. Just as he managed to pull them off, however, four more gophers clung onto Paul's jacket. " Good-for-nothing rat droppings ! " he snarled as the gophers plunged him to the floor again. " I'll turn you into gopher puddles ! "

Rowan cleared his throat. " That's enough. Get off of him. It's not his fault he's such a little spawn of evil. "

Giselle scoffed, yanking the gophers off of Paul. She held the last gopher in her hands and grinned. " He may be a pile of gopher droppings, but he's absolutely adorable ! Ooh, I wonder why he has a bandage on his forehead. "

The gopher squirmed in her arms and squeaked rather angrily. Two more gophers came running to their fellow comrade and started to squeak in dismay when they saw him locked in Giselle's grip. Lt. Surge, having weaknesses that were mostly ground-related, eyed the ground-dwellers warily. " Yeah....are these gophers keeping up with their medical bills ? I once saw a Diglett who had the chicken pox. I may never go back into Diglett's Cave again just for a short cut. "

" ...Is the lieutenant afraid of a mere Diglett ? "

_" NO, I AIN'T AFRAID OF A MULCH DIGGUMS ! SHADDUP, PAUL ! "_

" Don't be a McFrowner, Lieutenant. That's _my_ job. "

" Yeah, you're the king of frowning, that's for sure. "

" I think your daughter's getting mugged. "

_**" WHAT ?! "**_ Lt. Surge dropped his gaze on Paul and turned around to see a horrifying sight. The two gophers were slowly dragging Giselle towards the garbage chute in the middle of the room while ignoring her furious screams. It seemed to be inviting, the chute of garbage that had old food bordering around its surface. She tried to pull away from the gophers' grip, but it was too strong. Despite the situation, though, the girl kept up the spirit of pouring her emotions out. " You gophering sons of bitches ! I have the best experience in everything because I'm better than a gopher ! " she screeched, tugging as hard as she could, but ultimately failing. " I will not tolerate this form of a rebellious act ! An- and you ! Stop looking at my skirt, you dirty, old man ! "

Grampa Sammy looked away. " Mission aborted....."

" Mission aborted ?! What the hell is that supposed to meaa_aaAAAAAAN....."_

Poof ! Down in the chute was Giselle, dangling from an old, slimy rope, dangling for her self-centered dignity. Paul started to snicker evilly as the girl let out an ear-piercing, toe-curling shriek. _**" HEEEEEEEELP ! HEEEEEEELP ! SOMEBODY HELP ME ! "**_

A gopher waddled to the edge of the garbage chute. Sparkles in her eyes, Giselle started to plead to her furry nemesis to have mercy on her " rich, superior soul ". However, when you try to make a pop culture reference from an anime that hasn't even existed yet, it tends to get you in a bad situation. Truthfully, if you could save either a horror icon with a chainsaw or a narcissistic fifteen-year-old girl, wouldn't that be an easy choice to make ? You'd save the horror icon with a chainsaw.

This is what the gopher thought, too. Although there was obviously no horror icon with a chainsaw, the animal still wouldn't help Giselle up even if his life depended on it. One by one, he plucked Giselle's fingers from the rope, causing her to fall into a pit of darkness, or, in this case, smelly garbage. All Lt. Surge could do was race up to the edge of the chute and shake his fists in the air. "_ ZELLY ! "_ he shouted, leaning over the edge. " Zelly, don't you worry ! Daddy'll get his Army comrades to rescue ya ! "

Rowan furrowed his eyebrows. " The Army wouldn't be able to penetrate these walls. Besides, we're in Kanto, not the United States. "

_" WELL, WHAT DO I DO, RUDY ?! "_

" You could stop shouting. "

" But I like shouting....."

Music started to play from out of nowhere. Brock and the other Oompa Loompas came in from the entrances wearing prince-like outfits of royal blue. They formed a circle around the garbage chutes and joined hands, although it was an odd sight to see Brock bending almost halfway in order to hold hands with his neighbors. As usual.....

......they kicked in unison, several feet kicking Lt. Surge into the garbage chute. What ? The Oompa Loompas belong to a union, not some caroling charity. Unless....you want them to die of exhaustion, but that cannot happen because even though the authoress likes hurting Brock, she hates scrubbing blood.

Tracey sweatdropped as the Oompa Loompas quickly left the room and Rowan and the rest of the group headed for the exit. He looked back at the garbage chute before he asked, " Are they going to be all right, Mr. Rowan ? "

The candyman grunted. " I believe the incinerator to that chute is lit on Tuesdays, but I think it's been broken for a couple of weeks, so the girl and her chubby father will probably fall through three weeks' worth of rotting garbage. Either way, they'll be fine. "

Paul smirked. " Garbage. That's all they ever were. "

And with that in mind, the group continued forward, still in a pencilless state.

End

* * *

Cast o' Characters :

Tracey Sketchit - Charlie Bucket

Professor Oak - Grampa Joe

Giselle - Veruca Salt

Lt. Surge - Veruca's father

Paul - Mike Teevee

Reggie - Mike's....brother

Professor Rowan - Willy Wonka

Brock and his siblings - the Oompa Loompas. _(=D Let's give them a hand ! *claps*)_


	7. Failure of Paul

Chapter 7 : Failure of Paul

_D: Okay, I'm not going to lie - I've been slacking. Big time. We should all know that Axy is a major procrastinator and is trying to kick the habit, but like the directors are probably never going to stop making Freddy and Jason movies, I'm probably never going to stop procrastinating. *laughs* I'm also still getting adjusted to school....even though I've already been in there for three weeks now, but I need an alibi so you guys don't start chucking fruit at me. Except kiwi. Axy loves kiwi. XD _

_Anyway, for those of you who like making fun of the Oompa Loompas (*quietly raises hand*).....they're not in this chapter. Sorry. I felt that if I added them, they probably would've killed Paul, and as incredibly amusing as killing Paul sounds, I can't do it. I'd rather have him alive to experience pain. Does Paul feel pain ? Who knows ? Sooo....let me stop my chapter babble and get onto the chapter already. x3_

* * *

It was down to five people in the group. A quintet, comprised of two old men, two normal adolescents, and a boy with an emo glare that seemed to be glued on his disgusted face. Things were a lot quieter now that Paul's sworn rival, Lt. Surge, had fallen into a broken garbage chute with his daughter. Maybe it was _too_ silent, as most people like to talk about rock bands and things they saw on CNN. Perhaps there was nothing to talk about among the five men. Unlikely, but when the age range is from fifteen to sixty-four, it's possible.

Tracey kept an eye on Grampa Sammy. He knew that his elderly guardian was slowly drifting towards a distant part of the mind, which was bad. Samuel seemed to get into a lot of trouble when he decided to zone out from the rest of the world. There were many times when the old man was involved in a crazy experiment that defied death. Most of these experiments were linked to explosions, and ended up with Tracey passing out on the kitchen floor.

Reggie's brother was a similar case. Paul would often go to extreme measures just to get Reggie so rattled up that he wouldn't even cook the usual healthy dinner. Sometimes Paul would try to injure his brother physically, too. Most of the time, he was successful. The clusters of bruises up and down the forearms, legs, hips, and forehead could tell you that, from the dark purple ones to the vomit green ones. Reggie could also tell you the abuse that has been sadistically inflicted on him, but most people tend to avoid Reggie.

Both of the young men kept an eye on their loved ones as Rowan guided them through a room with saw blades and robotic screwdrivers. Sawdust blanketed the surfaces of tables, chairs, and dangerous equipment, and everyone had to wear goggles to prevent any accidents. For some reason beyond comprehension, Rowan seemed proud of this wooden area as he pointed his cane to circular saws and wooden planks that were split in two. " This is to keep the industrial Oompa Loompas at bay ! " he shouted over the deafening noises. " I know that it's very hard to hear, but I think you'll get used to the noises ! "

" Misa-Misa's doing sexy poses ?! " Grampa Sammy shouted in response. " Dammit, why didn't I ask somebody if I could borrow their camera ?! "

Paul glared at Samuel. " He asked you if you wanted poisonous lozenges ! "

_" WHAT ?! "_

_**" I SAID, HE ASKED YOU IF YOU WANTED POISONOUS LOZENGES ! "**_

_**" WHAT ?!! "**_

"** . . . . .** "

Rowan grabbed Paul's earlobe and yanked on it. " Little boy, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that you didn't say anything that's emotionally disturbing, " he muttered, " but I have no time for a shouting match when we're supposed to be touring this facility ! "

" I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't hear you, you dumb old batshit ! "

".....I swear if I was just referred to what I'm thinking, I'm afraid I might have to tie you up with ropes and chains. "

_" What ?! "_

The old man groaned loudly. Paul snickered under his breath. They all went on with the tour, barely escaping a wooden plank that crushed about twenty Oompa Loompas. Rowan, who was clearly agitated despite his attempts to keep a happy face, grumbled under his breath about how some people were evil before he cleared his throat. " You might as well keep those goggles on, " he murmured. " We'll soon be entering a room that would melt your eyeballs out of their sockets if you didn't wear the approved eyewear. Now, in the beginning, I made you all sign a release form that protects me from- "

" You never made us sign anything ! " Paul spat. " You just forced us into a rat-sized room and made Ketchum go up a pipe with exploding soybeans ! "

" .....As I was saying, " Rowan started again, glaring at Paul, " I made you all sign a release form tha- "

" Never did it. "

_" SHUDDUP ! "_

More snickering came from the evil teenager. Reggie sweatdropped, putting a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. It wasn't every day that your younger brother surpassed you with his superior complex and emo stare. Well, actually, it _was_ every day in Reggie's case, but that's because Paul acted like a demonic monster from another planet. That's not the point, though, as we're not trying to make a point in this scenario.

Reggie rubbed his forehead for a few seconds before he grabbed Paul by the wrists and handcuffed him. The younger boy cursed his brother out in sheer fury, but this time the death threats didn't even seemed to work on Reggie. This is what scientists would call a chemical imbalance. Somehow, the brain surpassed the abuse levels that it could handle, which, according to these crackpot scientists, wasn't a good thing. To put it in simpler terms, Reggie had cracked, and we all know that a person who's as cracked as an eggshell is a very dangerous person. The chemical imbalance can happen in all good-hearted people who socialize with psychotic people. Who knew where the handcuffs came from, though.

Tracey was also near his breaking point. The reason behind this could not be blamed on a single person, but rather several factors that revolved around his life. Most of these factors involved old-personsitting. This wouldn't affect a person, but of course a normal person wouldn't dream of eating nothing but mustard on a daily basis. For the safety of the viewers' eyes, however, Tracey snapping in a demonic rage was banned by the Kantonian government after an unpleasant incident involving Ritchie, a pitchfork, and a giant roll of Scotch tape.

Meanwhile, Grampa Sammy was examining everything closely with his eyes and thought process. As a professor, it should be normal to do this in the midst of a tour. Samuel wasn't doing this for any scientific experiments, though. He was simply bored, and the only thing that kept him from thinking about mustard sandwiches were the decorations that were hanging on the wall. How charming.

After a long period of walking, Paul started to rattle his handcuffs. He angrily thrashed around, trying to get someone to bend to his will. Nobody responded to the youngest of the group, though, not even Reggie. Unfortunately, this meant listening to death threats and metal chains rattling, but since these threats were being spat out by Paul, they weren't much of a threat to anyone.

Eventually, Rowan broke the silence. He walked up to something - something invisible - and pressed his finger in mid-air like how someone would press a button. " You're wondering what I am doing, " he stated knowingly. " Well, what I'm doing is opening up our transportation method. You may not be able to see it, but I'm standing in front of a glass elevator. Behold, E.T. ! "

Silence. Rowan quietly groaned. " Elevator Transportation ? Gee, I would think that you youngsters would get it. Oh, well. " He gestured to E.T. ." All right, everyone, get in. "

They all stepped into the glass elevator without the slightest bit of injury, the automatic doors gently shutting behind their entrance. The elevator gradually zoomed upward for about five seconds before it started to shake violently. E.T. jolted its passengers around, causing them to bump into its walls and floors.

A few more seconds passed until two handlebars popped out from the sides of the elevator. Rowan quickly grasped his hands on one of the bars as the elevator knocked down the others to the floor again. He calmly looked at his guests before gesturing to the handlebars. " I suggest you hold onto these handlebars, " he said. " It only gets worse from here, believe me. The last time Brock rode E.T. his eyes were bulging out for a week. Not a pretty sight. "

Everyone except for Paul nodded and followed suit. Paul angrily shook his handcuffs as he laid pathetically on the floor. " Hey, losers, I can't get up ! " he hissed, showing off the handcuffs. He kicked his legs back and forth to emphasize that he was pretty much helpless. No one responded. " Hello ? I am the greatest being in the universe and I shall have order ! I demand to be helped up, and as inferior beings you shall do so ! "

Nothing. Paul kicked his feet against the elevator walls. He mumbled a string of obscenities under his breath as his face started to turn a pale shade of purple. Even after this they ignored Paul. Tracey attempted to help Paul up, but Reggie smacked his senior's hand away from mid-air. " It's okay, " he said coldly, losing all traits of Reggie. " Let the little batshit squirm. "

* * *

Several rounds of kicking, death threats, and upchucking later, Paul was exhausted. Well, more than exhausted, more like almost dead. The last few minutes of the elevator ride were the bumpiest ones. In fact, if it wasn't for Tracey dragging the boy by the ankles, he probably would've never came out of the elevator, since Reggie was still in an abnormal mood.

Now they were all in an extremely bright room wearing their goggles, Paul still panting from all of the vomit that came out of his foodhole. Tracey fiddled with adjusting the protective eyewear on his face. The elastic band that kept his goggles on him started to make the back of his head itch, and as time progressed, he started to run his fingers through his messy black hair.

Grampa Sammy held Tracey's other hand, frowning slightly. He turned to his apprentice and yanked the scratching hand away from its target. " Tracey, what an impolite thing to do ! " he scolded, shaking the hand disapprovingly. " You're always supposed to scratch with your forefinger and thumb, not the index finger and pinkie like a Mankey ! "

" Um, Grampa, I _wasn't_ scratching with my pinkie....."

" Hush, Tracey ! " The elder man glowered at the boy. " You know you're not supposed to talk back. I thought I raised you with semi-decent morals ! "

Tracey sighed and decided to let his guardian babble and insult his manners. Samuel was more forgetful than your average fifty-four year old man. It was rather pointless to argue with him. Besides, he had to pay attention to the tour and Rowan, who looked like he was about to explain something important to the group. Being an elderly man who was obsessed with chocolate and chocolate by-products, that theory was true.

Rowan cleared his throat as he tapped the floor twice with his cane. He glanced at a giant plasma-screen TV built into one of the walls, which was surrounded by laser-like devices. While everyone else sweatdropped, he began to speak. " Around my sixth or seventh year of working in the candy business, I began thinking of new ways to advertise the chocolate, " he started, a reminiscent look on his face. " In the beginning, I thought about negotiating a deal with school fundraisers in the Celadon-Saffron area. " The man gently placed a hand on his forehead. " You learn things, though. Sometimes we learn facts that we didn't want to know. I learned within that week that schools prefer to buy cheap, stale chocolate from companies who don't know what the hell they're doing. It was back to the drawingboard for me. "

He gestured to the television and laser-like devices. " We started developing this particular invention about three years ago. Who wants to advertise chocolate with boring old school fundraisers ? Most people in the world own a television set. That's what got me thinking again. What if I could use the television to my advantage ? I did....or going to in a few short weeks. "

Tracey raised a hand. " Do you get any channels on the TV ? "

" Yes. I'm currently subscribed to HBO. " Rowan chuckled beneath his mustache before continuing. " The procedure is simple. A giant chocolate bar is heaved onto a long table and zapped into the television with those lasers. By the time it reaches the the TV, it'll be normal-sized, and you could simply snatch it out of the TV. It's genius. "

" It's TV, " Tracey mumbled breathlessly.

" It's a teleportation device, moron ! " Paul exclaimed. " Old man, don't you realize what you've done ?! You might have made the most important invention of the twentieth century, and you want to waste it on chocolate ! " He banged his cuffed hands against the wall. " Chocolate ! How incredibly stupid is that ?! This is why you don't let old people work ! "

Reggie took a step forward towards Paul, eyes quickly narrowing into a very un-Reggie glare. " You need to apologize to Mr. Rowan right now, " he said sternly.

Paul snorted. " Why don't you make me ? "

" Apologize....."

_" No. "_

_" APOLOGIZE ! "_

**_TACKLE !_**

The older boy threw Paul to the ground and started to fight. Paul rattled his chains to try and scare his brother off of him, but it was useless. They rolled around trying to land blows at each other. Everyone else simply stared.

Finally, after about five minutes of rolling, Reggie did an upward kick, sending Paul flying directly into the laser device. In response, the laser fired at Paul, making him vanish into thin air....

....or rather, into the television.

Rowan cackled, pointing to the miniature Paul. " Look at him ! He's like an action figure ! "

Grampa Sammy started to laugh. Tracey managed to supress his giggles. Reggie plucked Paul out of the television and held him by the shirt collar. He quickly let go of his brother before stomping on the little man. Everyone kept quiet as they looked at the now-flattened Paul. Reggie's eyes quickly unnarrowed, horrified. " Oh, my God. What have I done ? "

" You just squashed your brother, " Rowan replied. " You should probably take him to the infirmary. He doesn't look too good. I think you crushed quite a few of his bones. "

" Yes, Sir ! "

Reggie ran off with Paul in his hands, leaving Tracey, Grampa Sammy, and Rowan by themselves. A clock nearby kept the constant ticking pace as it ticked within all of the silence. What would happen next ? And will Tracey every get a pencil ?

Probably not.

End

* * *

Cast o' Characters :

Tracey Sketchit - Charlie Bucket

Professor Oak - Grampa Joe

Professor Rowan - Willy Wonka

Paul - Mike Teavee

Reggie - Mike's....guardian.


	8. Losers' Epilogues

Chapter 8 : Losers' Epilogues

_Okay, then, I finally finished Chapter Eight, yays ! ^^ There'll be one chapter after this one, but don't expect it any time soon. *goes in corner.....*_

* * *

_Outside of the factory, we venture back into the real life for a chapter to see what the losers have been doing since they were kicked out of the factory a few short hours ago. Some people say that losers shouldn't be called losers, but these_ proper people_ also want us to be herbivores and live on the streets, so we already know that they aren't right in the head. And no, we're not talking about the vegetarians - just ordinary, psychotic weirdos with no life and a cardboard box._

_Okay, okay, so maybe this message is a little rude and offensive and whatever else you want to call it, but our announcer had a tragic accident with a PS3. So, without further ado, let's roll the epilogue footage ! HUZZUH_ !

* * *

(Pallet Town)

" Ooh, look, I still have chocolate in my fingernails. I thought I licked 'em dry. I don't know how you do it, Pikachu. "

Pikachu sighed, rolling his eyes at his very dense trainer. Unlike the furry yellow rat that we all know and love, Ash was sitting outside in his boxers in a disposable tub filled with water. After coming home drenched in chocolate and tofu, Delia had forbidden the boy to take even one step into the house. Following the decree, she made Ash sit in the tub to soak and sweat the food off of him, supplying two old towels and a water hose to the teenager. So far, he was still covered in chocolate and tofu from the waist up, excluding his face.

Giovanni stood next to Ash, silently regretting his decision to accompany his son to a place that's within fifty feet of chocolate. Across from him was the snaggletoothed reporter, holding a microphone in her hand. She stared at Ash in disbelief, then at Giovanni. " Is he always like this ? " she whispered.

" Yeah. "

" Are you sure he's your son ? "

" Yeah....."

Snaggletooth looked disappointed. Ash raised his hand. " Ooh, Snaggy ! Snaggy ! As strange as it sounds, this isn't the first time I've spent the day dripping in chocolate ! " he stated happily, eyes twinkling in delight with a slight hint of insanity. " When I was, like, four, me and Gary were experimenting with a magnifying glass and all of the leftover Halloween candy in Pallet. There was a big fire in the backyard that day, but we were _soaked_ ! " He broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter, causing several cameramen to sweatdrop. " That was one of the best days of my life, and so is this one. I just wonder why Mom's so upset. "

Delia was standing away from most of the publicity with furrowed eyebrows. At the mention of her name, she immediately glared at Giovanni and crossed her arms. In response, the man blanched and sweatdropped at the eye contact that was inflicted on him. " It's not my fault ! " he repeated for the third time that day. " I'm not supposed to be his bodyguard ! I'm supposed to be his father ! "

" Should've thought of that before you let him jump into a chocolate river, " Delia replied crisply.

" Well, what do you want me to do, Delia ?! " Giovanni threw a couple of Lifesavers into the road, his face explosive and tinted with scarlet. He pointed to Ash angrily and stomped his left foot. " I can't keep my eye on him all the time ! It's not my fault that he does idiotic things because he's an idiot ! And yes, Delia,_ he is an idiot_ ! "

" That's it. Your house privileges are banned. Go and sleep in your own home tonight, _Mr. Genius. _"

_" D-M-NOOOOOOOOO ! I'D RATHER KILL MYSELF WITH YOUR ABBA CD ! "_

" Should've thought of that before you called our son an idiot on television ! " Delia spat, walking away.

Ash snickered under his breath as he watched an all-out brawl between his parents start to unfold on the front lawn. A few cameramen would later place this exclusive footage on some of the many social networking sites that were around about fifteen years later. In the meantime, however, Miss Snaggletooth would have to view this firsthand and remember the cuts, bruises, and other injuries for a long, long time.

* * *

(Viridian City)

Vicious was terribly frightened, probably for the first time in his entire life. Well, actually, Vicious was _beyond_ frightened. Just a few short hours ago, his eighteen-year-old commanding officer blew up into a blueberry and to have a de-juicer attached to her stomach. There were a lot of things that annoyed Domino, but the fact that something was shoved into her stomach was the ultimate insult to her. She was always so proud of her figure....that, and her gum-chewing record. And now she had been humilated, and everything was going to break loose on Vicious.

He sat in a chair next to Miss Snaggletooth as a new-blue Domino showed off her new skin pigment and chattered to every major cameraman to try and ease her pain. " Well, I've kicked my gum habit, " she said, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers. " I've learned that chewing gum is excellent for the jaw, but just horrible for my appearance. I mean, look at me ! I may still look wonderfully gorgeous, but now I'm blue ! I won't ever be able to get a modeling job here in Kanto looking like a freakin' blueberry ! I'll have to work in _exotic_ modeling with nonblondes ! "

She shuddered for a couple of seconds before her eyes narrowed into an enraged glare. " And yet Sashie never once told his superior that this could happen ! " she hissed. " I knew I should've blackmailed Dr. Pointy into taking me like I originally planned ! At least _he's_ smart ! "

" Hmph. I never did like that crackpot doctor with his tales of a red Gyarados. You better keep him away from me when you're pushing him into the doorway with your boots. Dr. Pointy might get distracted, " Vicious grumbled in reply.

Domino cracked her knuckles, taking one step forward towards Vicious. Her blue complexion turned a violent purple tint similar to a nasty bruise. She tossed her cherished beret onto one of the chairs to avoid getting blood spilled on it. " Is that a _threat_, Sashie ?! " the girl demanded. " Is that a _threat_ ?! You wanna _hurt _me ?! Go ! Go and _hurt_ me, tough guy ! "

" Gladly. "

Vicious dashed forward, taking out a pocketknife as he sprung into the air. Domino grabbed a crowbar in her defense, blocking the Marauder's attempt to pounce on her. Leaping backwards, she swung the crowbar wildly at him. A few of the blows managed to severely injure Vicious, with the last whack sending him crashing to the floor.

The man shuddered as his fingers grabbed into the soft, plush rug under his body. He was defeated in under ten seconds by a girl that was half his age. The humilation had never felt so painful and bitter....especially with Domino being the humiliator.

_**" I'LL SMASH THE BRAINS OUT OF YOUR SKULL AND LODGE SOME SENSE INTO YOUR THICK, DUMB HEAD ! "**_ Domino roared, her face murderous with rage.

Evereyone in the room sweatdropped, even Snaggletooth, who clung to the chair. She gently bit on her lower lip as she glanced at the half-conscious Vicious, who shared the gaze with the newscaster. He groaned softly. " Leave...while you still....caaaaan....." he mumbled before passing out completely.

* * *

(Vermilion City)

" Ewww ! There's _spaghetti_ in my hair ! Gross ! "

Giselle flicked the strand of spaghetti into the garbage can before returning to the task of getting all of the goop that was in her hair. It may have been clearly impossible, but there were more than berries in the garbage chute that she fell out of earlier. Nevertheless, a lot of the male newscasters and cameramen swarmed around her like flies.

Lt. Surge wasn't thrilled about that aspect, though. Watching his only daughter being surrounded by a bunch of lowlife males made him itch with fury. Literally.

" Zelly ! I think one of those TV guys gave my body lice ! " the lieutenant cried, slowly plunging to the floor. " I'm so damn itchy ! "

The girl glanced at her father and shook her head. " No, it's none of these guys, " she replied as she combed through her hair. " Paul placed a bottle of itching powder in your front pocket when we were still in the factory. "

" Huh ? When was this, Zelly ? "

" When you said Resident Evil sucks. "

" But it _does_ suck. "

Giselle rolled her eyes as she squeezed a Paul plushie that randomly appeared from out of nowhere. " Men and their video games. Y'know, Daddy, sometimes I don't understand you at all, but I _do_ understand that you're itchy because of Paul. " She giggled softly, prompting Miss Snaggletooth to glare at the teenage beauty. " He knows he can't resist me, that Paul. He's just a giant hunk of sly romance ! "

" Shy....romance ? "

" Yes ! Paul's the bad-boy kind of guy, but inside he can't deny his feelings. It's embedded in his soul. "

Miss Snaggletooth snorted. " You wish, " she mumbled.

_" SHUT UP, SNAGGY ! "_

"_ DON'T CALL_ ME _SNAGGY, GARBAGE GIRL ! " _

Lt. Surge's right eye twitched. He walked into the kitchen and appeared back in the living room five seconds later holding a shotgun in his hands. A brutal sparkle glinted in his eyes as he flung the door leading outside open. " Giselle, don't expect me back until late this night, " he growled as he turned to look at his daughter. " Daddy has to attend to business in Veilstone City. "

" Nn, in Sinnoh ? "

" Yes, sweetie. "

" Um, isn't that where Paul lives, Daddy ? "

_**-SLAM!-**_

Giselle sweatdropped as she thought of someone else besides herself for once. She plopped into the chair next to Miss Snaggletooth's and pursed her lips. " Well, Paul's gonna be dead in a matter of hours. I wish him luck......"

* * *

(Veilstone City - three hours later)

Paul laid in a body cast in a small salad bowl. He couldn't move any part of his body other than his eyes, which were still glaring at everything and everyone. And everything and everyone seemed to annoy him, especially his itchy nose. The itch would have to wait, though, along with everything else.

Smiling down upon the boy was Reggie. The chemical balance seemed to return to the older brother as he placed a sheet of toilet paper over Paul's body. " Here you go, Paul. Gotta keep those bones warm. "

_" I DON'T NEED YOUR TAINTED SYMPATHY ! "_ Paul spat, directing his glare at Reggie. " It's _your_ fault that I'm in a body cast ! "

Reggie chuckled softly as he went to open the door while completely ignoring Paul. He smiled at the person who was on the other side of the door. " Oh, hello, Maylene. It's been a while since I've seen you. Did you finally have a day off at the gym ? "

Maylene nodded. " I stopped by earlier, but you weren't here. Did you have a good tour ? "

" Yes. My brother has finally been subdued. It's finally quiet. "

" How wonderful. "

" Hey, I'm not dead yet ! " Paul snapped from the salad bowl.

" Of course you aren't, buddy, " Reggie replied.

_**" IF DAD EVER COMES HOME, I'M GOING TO HAVE HIM KILL YOU ! "**_

" Mm-hmm. "

Paul squeaked out obscenities as hard as he could. Maylene and Reggie shared a laugh as they sat by the table. It was a long time before anyone said anything as the two average-sized teenagers quietly held hands.

And then something crashed into the kitchen window with a shotgun.

_**" HOOOOOOOYOOOOOOUUUUGHHH ! WHERE IS THAT PAUL ?! WHERE IS HE ?! "**_ Lt. Surge demanded, his face beet-red with rage.

Reggie sweatdropped. " U-Um, hello, Lieutenant. How nice of you to, uh, crash by here at our humble little home...."

_**" WHERE IS THAT EMO PUNK SONUVABITCH ?! "**_

" Salad bowl. "

This time it was Maylene's turn to sweatdrop. Lt. Surge grinned as he rushed over to the table and loaded his shotgun. " Thank you very much, little boy. This'll only take a second, hehehe....."

_" NOOOOOOOOOO ! "_

* * *

(Rudy Rowan's Chocolate Factory ; 8:15 p.m.)

Tracey sat beside Grampa Sammy in the small office, trembling. Rowan sat on the other side of the large desk as he shuffled a stack of papers. After Paul and his brother had left the factory, Rowan had insisted that the three of them go into his office to discuss an important matter. It sounded suspicious, but Tracey knew he would have to confront it one way or another. Maybe the power of the pencil would finally help.

Rowan dropped his now-paperclipped stack of papers and faced Tracey. His expression was very serious as he cleared his throat. " Mr. Sketchit, I've made my decision. You will marry my daughter. "

Pencils wouldn't help out, after all. Tracey was _screwed._

End


	9. Mr Sketchit Gets Hitched

Chapter 9 : Mr. Sketchit Gets Hitched

_^^ Yay, I managed to complete this fanfic ! Thanks for all of the support that I've received. I'm glad that I've made the people who liked this fic at least a little bit happier by each chapter that they've read. I kinda got a little fluffy on this chapter, though, so sorry about that. (I need to stop reading my mom's romance novels. XD) Anyway, once again, thank you, and I hope I could do another parody in the future, since I really enjoyed doing this. =D_

_Enjoy. :3_

* * *

" You will marry my daughter. "

The words cut Tracey like a sharp razor blade. Never in his mind did he relate a secretive chocolate factory with marriage. And it wasn't like the words formed imto a question. It was a statement, and it sounded like a command.

An even bigger question managed to form in his head, though - Rowan had a daughter ?

He shook in his clothing, shocked by the mere thought. Grampa Sammy stood silent and decided that the only place that was safe to look at were his hands, which he did with a weird fondness. Rowan looked confused at the expressions of Tracey and Samuel, but furrowed his eyebrows as he cleared his throat. " I don't understand why you look so glum, Mr. Sketchit, " he said gruffly, stroking his mustache. " You're very fortunate. I'm letting you marry my oldest daughter, and she's such a sweet beauty. "

" O-Oldest ? " Tracey stammered. "How m-many daughters do y-you have, Sir ? "

" Four, " Rowan replied, a smile tugging on his lips. " I got my way with my lady a lot before she decided to leave us nine years ago. " He sighed almost sadly. " They're all beautiful girls, Mr. Sketchit, and I love each and single one of them, but I don't see any of them very often because of my work. And all of them are being provided with the lap of luxury, but it's time that I gave my oldest daughter a husband. "

" B-But what if I don't want to marry her ? "

Rowan's face darkened. " You don't have a choice in the matter, " he stated sternly. " In three days' time, you two shall be legally wed, and she will be Mrs. Sketchit. And if you refuse, I will make you stand at the alter with the butt of a loaded shotgun pressed against the back of your head. " He chuckled at the sight of Tracey's terrified expression. " You don't need to be so nervous, though. I'm sure you two will get along wonderfully. " The man turned to the door. " You may come in now, sweetie. "

The door creaked open, and Daisy slowly trotted into the office, looking embarrassed. She cringed as she met Tracey's gaze with her own, but tried to look like her usual self as she planted a nervous smile on her face and waved. " Um....hi, Tracey. "

Everything suddenly went black for the young boy. He stared at everything for a few seconds beofre he slowly fell into Nothing Land.

* * *

" Tracey ! Tracey ! "

" Mr. Sketchit ? "

_**" MR. MAILMAN ! "**_

Tracey slowly woke up to the voices of Daisy, Rowan, and Grampa Sammy. He sat up in a sitting position and looked at his surroundings. The smells of Venomoth balls and mustard made his nose itch, which startled him. He was back home in his own pile of patched-up blankets. Everything was the same, only now a famous candymaker was examining everything in the lab. " Hn. You two don't seem to own a lot, " the old man commented, turning to Samuel. " I suppose that's all right, though. Daisy _has_ always been interested in the simple life of the country folk, haven't you, Daisy ? "

The girl stood silent as she furrowed her eyebrows at her father. Grampa Sammy burst out laughing before he smacked Rowan on the back. " Yes, Tracey can give Miss Waterflower all of the mustard packets we have ! " he replied, chuckling rather loudly. " He's a nice, little boy who's a bit obsessive with his pencils and his doodling, Tracey is. And besides that, he keeps me out of trouble all the time ! "

Rowan chuckled. " How splendid. I guess I don't have to stick around here until the wedding. I can go back home, serve myself a reflecting glass of brandy, and watch Brock dance around in a sombrero and a fake mustache before going to sleep tonight. And Daisy could stay here until the wedding and make herself at home. It'll be like a sleepover for her. "

Grampa Sammy nodded in agreement as Rowan took his leave before he finally comprehended the words about twelve seconds later. " Wait...._what _? "

* * *

" Why didn't you _tell_ me that your father was an international Mr. Candyman ?! I thought you could trust me ! "

The future couple laid in different spots of the room - he was nestled in the pile of raggedy blankets, and she was curled up on the small couch under a warm quilt. Samuel had retired to his tiny room hours ago, leaving them to fend for themselves. Neither one of them had said a word since Rowan left the lab to amuse himself, and they were both distraught by the idea of getting married so soon.

" Why didn't you _tell_ me ? " Tracey repeated in an anguished voice. " Daisy, why didn't you _tell _me ? "

" Because it's none of your damn business, that's why ! " Daisy snapped, glaring at Tracey. Her expression immediately softened as she spoke the words, and she buried her face in her hands. " I'm sorry, Tracey, " she apologized, slowly looking back up at Tracey with her teal eyes. " I guess that introducing my dad wasn't the top priority on my list. Please don't think of him as too intimidating, though, because he really is just a sweet, overprotective old man. He's like...a grizzly bear. You don't hate me now, do you ? "

Tracey shook his head. " Of course not. I've had a lot more frightening experiences than spending the day with your father. After all, I _did_ travel with Ash for six months. That should say more than enough. "

She giggled softly, and he crawled over to the couch and positioned himself next to Daisy's feet. The girl giggled a little more loudly as she laid Tracey's head on her lap and started to run her slender fingers through his thick, black hair. " Oh, God, I'm starting to feel like Misty, " she murmured before winking at Tracey." You know, only without having a bug being shoved into my face every five seconds or having to lead my guy friend to the potty. "

" Ha-ha, that sounds just like Ash. Teenage love can be pretty dense, I remember. "

Daisy grinned. " What are you talking about, little boy ? You're barely out of your kiddie diapers yourself, Tracey, sweetie. At least _I _have more adult experience. I'm, like, a wizard. "

" With your father's whimsical white mustache, " Tracey teased.

" Shushie. I'm not that old yet ! "

They both laughed at that, and Tracey positioned himself so he was closer to Daisy. The night was filled with giddy chattering. He talked about his sketches, the Orange Archipelago, and the simple life that he enjoyed living. She talked about swimming pools, sunny beaches, and several of Misty's embarrassing secrets. It was the most enjoyable night that Tracey had in a while, and the same thing could be said for Daisy.

After a long time of talking, the two young adults laid as best as they could on the small couch. Tracey yawned softly as he leaned against the arm of the couch. " You know, Daisy, I've got some people that you would want to meet. There's Gary, the lovable grandson of the Professor. You might've met him before, but I'm not sure. "

" He's the one with the spiky hair, right ? "

" Uh-huh. " Tracey smiled gently. " He's also Ash's former rival. And there's also Gary's girlfriend, Dawn. They met in Sinnoh while she was traveling with Ash. She's a really nice girl. I'd think you'd like her. Dawn gets into Contests and cheerleading and all of that stuff. And she's only eleven, so you could dress her up to look like a princess and both of you would enjoy it. "

" Well, that's all fine and dandy for the day, but I wanna dress up something even bigger during the night. "

" A giant teddy bear ? "

Daisy giggled as she snuggled up closer to Tracey and placed a finger to her lips. " Ummm, nope. All I want is my shining knight in armor, Mr. Sketchit ! "

A small gasp came out of Tracey. He quickly untangled himself out of the quilt and returned back to his pile of patched-up blankets. A scarlet shade spread to his pale cheeks as Daisy looked at him, puzzled. " I'm sorry, Daisy, but I think we should both go to bed now. It's already two-thirty in the morning. So...good night. "

He turned his body away from her so he wouldn't have to see her expression, which surprisingly, was fury. " What the hell is wrong with you ?! " she demanded as tears started to well up in her eyes. " I know Dad might be forcing us to marry, but I thought you loved me ! "

" I _do_ love you, Daisy ! " Tracey cried, tears forming in his own eyes. " But you've gotta understand that I've pretty much lived the hobo lifestyle all my life. And marriage is a big step....for both of us. We're young. You're supposed to be a swimsuit model or something like that, and I'm supposed to be an artist with the intentions of owning a pencil factory. "

" Honey, you've got to stop thinking about pencils so obsessively, " Daisy clucked as she crawled over to Tracey's side and wrapped her arms around his neck. She wiped her tears on his shirt and laughed. " I'm sure everything'll go well. In karma, what comes around goes around, so if we're having a shotgun wedding, at least we won't have to worry about struggling. "

Tracey slowly nodded. " I think I understand, " he murmured. " Sometimes we don't always get what we want in life, and that's a really good thing, I guess. "

" Yeah....it is...."

They shortly fell asleep afterwards, sleeping near each other with ease.

* * *

The next morning Grampa Sammy woke up Tracey and Daisy by poking them with the tip of a broom. " Hey, you two lovebirds, it's time for breakfast ! " he chirped, jabbing Tracey in the stomach with the broomstick. " You've already missed the most exciting news. I heard that Sinnoh's smallest boy is running through his life from a crazed Army lieutenant. Hehehe....the media these days. "

Tracey rubbed his eyes and looked up at the Professor. Samuel's eyebrows were furrowed, and he scowled as he smacked the boy's head with the broom. " That newspaper's made my hands itchy again. I don't know if that paper boy's trying to make my life miserable on purpose, or if it's the company's fault, but I should be wearing rubber gloves when I'm going to read the newspaper from now on. By the way, Tracey, where did I place my rubber gloves ? "

" Gary says that you gave Ash your rubber gloves a couple of years ago when his old ones were set on fire. "

" Hn. Well, I know what I'll be doing all day....unsetting those gloves on fire. I guess I'll leave you two by yourselves for a couple of hours. Maybe I'll get some new mustard bottles while I'm at it. Yes...I'll see you later, Tracey. "

He left a few seconds later, and Daisy turned to Tracey as she yawned. " Ohh, does he usually wake you up like this, Tracey ? " she inquired rather groggily.

" No, he usually throws the alarm clock at my head, " Tracey chuckled, grinning. He ran one hand through his hair while placing the other hand on Daisy's shoulder. " Just a typical morning. It'll get noisier if Gary and Dawn come over in jolly moods. "

Daisy snorted teasingly. " Don't underestimate me. I have three younger sisters. Noise doesn't bother me. "

" You're stronger than I thought. "

" Duh ! "

They started another round of giggling that morning without even eating breakfast. As expected, Gary and Dawn came over to the lab to chat and congratulate Tracey of his so-called victory. Tracey introduced Daisy to the two younger teenagers, and they all managed to get off on the right foot. Dawn even allowed her elder woman to play with her hair, a thing that she was most protective of the world.

The bluenette squeaked in delight as she felt soft hands go under her hair. " Wow, Daisy, you're so talented ! " she cried happily, clapping her hands. " How are you so good with this ? "

" Well, Dawn, honey, I've had plenty of practice, " Daisy replied. " Two of my sisters always begged me to do their hair when they were little. A lot of times I screwed up, though. Teachers always tell you to follow your dreams and practice makes perfect and all that preppy crap, but you never believe them until you're older. It's weird. "

Dawn nodded. " Yeah, I suppose so. Do you think it's philosophical ? "

" Mm-hmm, like, totally. "

From a small distance, Gary glanced at his senior. He chuckled softly as he crossed his arms in pure satisfaction. " You've got it good, Sketchit, " he commented. " She may talk in a weird way, but that Daisy isn't a dummy at all. You'd think so, but she knows how to hold herself strong with plenty of pride. I think for a forced wedding, it'll turn out well. "

Tracey blanched slightly. " Yeah, I guess so....."

" Dude, what's wrong with you ? You've got a hot chick dangling on your arm like a Mankey. "

" No, no, it's not like that. Pre-wedding jitters. "

" Ohhh. " Gary's frown turned into a broad grin. " I see. Well, Tracey, all I have to say to you is that this whole ceremony's going to go quickly. You'll be married to Daisy before you know it, and it won't bother you at all withing two weeks. " He shrugged. " Teenagers can sense these things, believe me. "

And before anyone knew it, the three days had passed, and the wedding ceremony had commenced. Daisy's sisters, Gary, Dawn, and even Ash all participated in what would be the best day of Tracey's life. Rowan and Grampa Sammy sat on the front benches of the seating arrangement, each with tears in their eyes. Daisy walked down the gravel path wearing a simple white dress with a lace collar and a necklace with the Cerulean City's gym badge dangling on the chain. She held a bouquet of sakura blossoms in her hands as she grinned and waved and eventually stood next to Tracey.

He was wearing a rented tuxedo and his usual sandals, palms drenched in sweat, cheeks flushed and scarlet. Daisy turned to him, and all fright evaporated from his face as his eyes met with her own. The local priest let them exchange their scribbled vows, and helped them be joined together. And when the priest asked, " Do you, Mr. Sketchit, allow yourself to be hitched to Miss Daisy Waterflower ? ", Tracey proudly said yes without a falter, and Daisy happily followed suit when the priest asked her.

Soon they were legally married, and they disappeared into the woods skipping merrily and holding hands. It was an absolutely corny sight, but neither husband nor wife seemed to care. He had the woman of his dreams, and she was Mrs. Sketchit. Gary was right - Tracey wasn't bothered at all by the thought of marriage, or having a piece of costume jewelry placed on his finger for the rest of his life. It was okay.

Later that night when everything else in Pallet was sound asleep, Tracey and Daisy were laying in a small motel room covered by nothing but a single blanket, if that was actually possible to visualize. Daisy wrapped her arms around Tracey as she yawned softly. " I love you, Mr. Sketchit, " she whispered.

" I love you, too, Mrs. Sketchit, " Tracey mumbled wearily, grinning.

Daisy also grinned. " And I'm so glad that Dad didn't force you into the candy business, but what are you going to do for a job ? "

" I got an offer from a pencil business earlier. They want me to run a pencil factory. Isn't that great ? "

" That's awesome ! "

She hugged Tracey and squealed in delight before finally nodding off to sleep. The grin on Tracey's face turned into the evillest smirk that could ever have been thought of him, maybe even eviller. A pencil factory would eventually turn to a pencil army. A pencil army would eventually turn into many pencil armies. And Tracey would be at the head of those pencil armies, patiently waiting to overcome the world with the doodling greatness, a strong leader with a strong wife by his side.

Yes, things were bound to get better. For a nineteen-year-old boy with a delusional influence from a crazy chocolate factory, Tracey Sketchit would prove to the world that his sketches and pencil armies were the best, and absolutely no one would defy that.....as he made plans for laser-eyed robots in his blissful sleep.

The End.


End file.
